Winchesters' Travels
by stargazer100
Summary: Dean and his 4 inch tall brother, Sam, set out to investigate a 'hot spot' in the ocean but end up going on a bigger adventure than planned. (But really, that's nothing new for them.)
1. Chapter 1

AN: This is my 2017 entry for nightmares06 Brothers Apart contest! I wrote using the BA bros AU again and had fun adding more OC's! I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it!

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Prologue

"-But what if the rumors are _true_?" one of the councilmen cut through earnestly, leaning forward in his chair.

The colonel paused where he stood at the front of the room facing the other men surrounding the table. They all looked at him with expectant faces; this is what they all were wondering. He sighed wearily and passed a hand through his grey peppered hair. "We've had peace for so long…Our security is extremely lacking."

The men all seemed to catch their breath as they let that sink in.

"So what you're saying is," a slow, calculated voice piped up from the shadowed end of the long table, "in the unfortunate event there would be an attack, the city would be completely and utterly vulnerable…" The fifth councilman leaned forward into the light, a grin stretching across his face. "Thank you colonel, that was exactly what I needed to know." He twisted his hand and the colonel's head mirrored the movement, snapping sharply at and odd angle. He dropped to the floor with a dull thump.

Everyone froze in horror and shock as they stared at the colonel's lifeless body.

The councilman turned to face them all, his eyes flashing solid black as his smile grew wickedly smug. "Gentlemen," he purred as he pushed back his chair to stand, "thank you, this certainly has been enlightening." Before anyone could react, with a snap of his fingers the rest of the men in the room caught fire. Chaos filled the room as they screamed out in pain and fear, falling over themselves and spreading the fire in their attempt to put it out. The black-eyed man watched for a moment with satisfaction, soaking in the turmoil and bleeding cries. Then he tilted back his head and opened his mouth to let a billow of black smoke exit the body, leaving it slumped to the ground to catch fire among the frantic, burning bodies of the other council members.

*****SUPERNATURAL******

"I don't like it," Dean said again for the tenth time that day, brow furrowed as looked over the boat in front of them. Salt water slapped against the wooden pier and gulls cried overhead as he continued his silent, judgmental assessment.

Sam, four inches tall and safely perched on his brother's shoulder since no one was around, rolled his eyes at Dean's hesitance. "Dude, you've made that clear already and we've been over it – it's floating isn't it? It's _safe_. You're not afraid of water as well as heights, are you?" he joked, giving his brother's neck a small jab with his elbow. "Can't you swim?"

Now it was Dean's turn to roll his eyes. "I'll have you know I once had to swim to shore dragging a kid along _while_ avoiding being pulled under by some freaky psycho ghost boy. I swim just fine. It's you I'm worried about, there's so much water," he shot the sea an accusing look. "You're askin' if I can swim when I should be the one askin' _you_ that."

Sam paused, finally understanding the reason for Dean's indifference to the job ever since he'd suggested it. "I can swim," he reassured him, "you're the one who taught me when I was younger, remember?"

"Right," Dean confirmed, "but that was years ago. Do you still remember?"

Sam had to hold back a sigh at his older brother's over-protectiveness; he was used it by now and, after the years they were separated after Sam was cursed, he welcomed it. The vastness of the ocean was more than a little intimidating and he wasn't one hundred percent certain that he still knew how to swim, but they had a job to do and he wasn't going to hold them back. "I'm good, don't worry. Now can we go or are we just going to stand here on the dock all day?"

With one last disgruntled huff Dean stepped wobblily onto the lightly rocking fishing boat, one hand holding his filled duffle bag and the other a mini cooler, and set them next to the wheel. It really was small - most of the room was taken by the wheel and controls in the middle with a little roof and glass raising above them so the sun wouldn't blind the driver, but it was most adequate one Dean could rent last minute.

Finally on, Sam took advantage of his brother's valuation of the different controls to carefully climb down his arm and stand in front of the provided window. The sea was amazing, finally getting the chance to see it again after being cursed was one of the biggest reasons he had pushed the idea for the job in the first place. You couldn't beat the fresh salty smell, or the way the sunlight danced off the water's surface.

An abrupt throat-clearing broke Sam out of his day-dream to turn and look up at where Dean stood expectantly with an eyebrow raised and a small smile playing at the corner of his lips as he held up a small, weird foam thing. "What's that for?" Sam asked slowly, suspecting he wasn't going to like the answer.

Dean's grin grew bigger; even from where he stood he could see Sam's bitch-face. "It's for you. After I realized I wasn't going to talk you out of this trip, I made it. It's like a mini life jacket made from those floaty pool noodles," he held back a snicker as he handed it to Sam. Safety was the important part, but the bulky, funky way it'd look on him was a hilarious plus. "Just humor me, will ya?"

Sam took the hand-made 'life jacket' from Dean's outstretched fingers with a distasteful frown. "Fine," he agreed, "But!" he interjected Dean's celebratory chuckle with a mischievous grin of his own. "You have to wear a life jacket too."

Dean's face fell as he eyed the offensive bright orange that lay at his feet left from the last renter. "Alright fine," he conceded, reaching down to put it over his head, freeing his amulet from the dingy straps with a humph. "Happy?" he asked with outstretched arms to show it off.

Sam nodded with a grin as he put his own on. "Very."

Dean sat at the wheel and started the engine; the loud noise filled the air and Sam almost had to cover his ears, but then they were off and slicing quickly through the gentle waves to leave the wooden dock behind.

"So, some fishermen have been complaining about being rerouted, huh?" Dean's gruff voice filled the silence that had fallen as both brothers had quietly watched the mesmerizing way the water rippled past them. He relaxed his stance in the chair, giving Sam a full look over from where he stood keeping watch over the horizon, making sure his little brother wasn't going to slip off the metal control panel. He shook his head, "And watches getting all screwy when they get to a certain spot?"

Dean really didn't expect to find much on this trip, but he was doing it for Sam; he had seemed so excited to explore the unknown and Dean never could resist his kid brother's puppy dog eyes. They were already in the area after finishing up a basic salt and burn yesterday anyway, it couldn't hurt to check it out.

Sam nodded, not taking his eyes off the ocean in front of him. "Yeah, it was just a small article in the newspaper, nothing big. But screwy watches and technology getting messed up made me think it might be the result of some sort of supernatural activity." From the complaints, it looked like the 'hotspot' started recently, and was slowly building up to something – but that was just a hunch. He looked up at the blue sky, not a cloud was seen. It was perfect for a boat ride. "If it doesn't turn out to be anything, at least we'll have a nice day."

Easy silence fell over the brothers again as the lull of the ocean washed over them. Later they both would question how much time had actually passed before the storm engulfed them.

A drop of rain, plinking onto the window of their mini control room was the only warning they had. Dean looked up in confusion, shaking his head to clear the dazed feeling, his gaze shooting up towards the once clear sky. Then a cracking boom erupted through the air; it vibrated through Dean's chest and he could only imagine how hard Sam had felt it through his own smaller frame.

An angry streak of light followed after, slicing above them, and suddenly they found themselves in the middle of a raging storm. The now grey and churning water chopped hungrily at their boat, and the once bright sky was overcast with clouds so dark it wiped away any memory of the sun.

 _'This isn't right',_ Dean's thoughts rushed through his head as he struggled to keep the wheel from twisting out of his grasp, ' _There's no way this storm is natural.'_

Sam was struggling to keep hold of the control panel himself. The thunderous boom had shaken him to his core, but the heavy thrashing of the water was making it near impossible for him to keep his balance. The little roof above them was useless now, the wind whipped in different directions, tearing at their life jackets and clothes and soaking them in seconds. His hands grew slick on the piece of panel he was clutching, and his heart raced in his chest. This was why Dean had been so reluctant to go. The ocean was as deadly as it was beautiful.

" _DEAN!"_ He yelled up at his brother, hoping he could be heard even as the wind ripped his voice away and buried it under the low rumblings of thunder. One hand slipped off and his breath caught in his throat as he jerked to the side, hanging on by one hand.

Dean quickly snatched out his own hand, curling his fingers around his brother to pluck him from where he dangled, then cupped him in a loose fist close to his chest. His eyes were wide and his own heart was beating fast, glad he had grabbed Sam in time. The wheel pulled fiercely in his one handed grasp and his arm was crying out in pain from trying to keep it steady. But that didn't matter, the only thing that did was keeping Sam safe. He risked opening his fist just a little to peek in at where Sam stared back up with him with widened eyes that mirrored his own.

"You okay?" He had to yell. He saw Sam flinch a little and Dean winced at how loud his voice was to be heard over the storm. But Sam gave Dean a firm nod. Dean gritted his teeth, shoving his body against the wheel. He needed two hands. "I'm going to put you in my pocket!" Dean yelled again, blinking fast to clear the rain that pelted his face and ran in his eyes. He couldn't hear what Sam said but he assumed it was an agreement, but with the rain and the rocking of the boat, Dean struggled to get to his shirt pocket underneath the damn life jacket; it was too tight, or too wet and he didn't want to shove Sam through the tight space. Panic rose and he tried to push it down as he struggled with both the wheel and his jacket. The mini cooler he brought slid past as the boat tilted dangerously to the side, and then slipped off the boat entirely to be completely swallowed into the depths below.

Rain still made it through Dean's fingers, and Sam listened for the thunderous boom of his brother's voice as he tried to compete with the storm's. Dean had stopped attempting to get to his pocket and had opted for clutching Sam protectively against his chest. Sam curled up, his senses being overloaded with the insanity of the storm, and wished there was something he could do to help. The storm was only getting worse, and he could tell from the loud thumping of Dean's heart his older brother was as frightened as he was, even if he tried not to show it. He felt Dean lurch to the side for one heart stopping moment, and the fingers around Sam tightened; not too much that it hurt him, he knew even with Dean using all his strength to fight the raging waves he would never be too rough with Sam, and he welcomed the uncomfortable grip because it felt more secure.

But then the thing they feared worst happened.

A giant wave rose above their tiny boat, and Dean could only gasp in horror before it came crashing down. Water poured over the hunter like a heavy waterfall and easily flipped the boat, tossing Dean and Sam off it into the dark, thrashing water.

Dean sputtered up to the surface, holding the hand above water that tightly held Sam. He was helplessly pushed back in forth from the raging water and he sent out a silent thank you to Sam for making him put on the life jacket, because keeping his head and hand above the water was tough even with the damn thing. ' _Gotta get to the boat, gotta keep Sammy safe,'_ Dean thought, his gaze cutting over the surface of the water as he bobbed, trying to find where their fishing boat was. If it hadn't tipped all the way over maybe he could get to it.

But with one heart-sinking moment he looked over just in time to witness the one side of it fully sinking down below, leaving them alone on the surface. The rain pelted the water and Dean furiously now and the roar of the waves and thunder was making it difficult to think. A wave pulled him under, but he kicked back up, coughing up the salt water he had inhaled. ' _Think, dammit, THINK!'_ he screamed at himself in his mind. They were in the middle of the ocean. Maybe he could-

Another huge wave rose up above him before crashing down to pull him deep under the water. Something hit the side of his head- was it something from the boat? But it didn't matter, he had to get to the surface again. He had to protect Sam. But the water was almost a living thing, angry and ruthless, and it didn't want to free him from its grasp. He felt tugged in all directions, spun around, not knowing which was up or down, didn't know how to break free.

Sam hands tried to find purchase in Dean's fist to clench on after they went under again. His chest hurt from the need for air and his brother's grip that had tighten around him more in a frantic attempt to keep him from being torn away. He felt Dean break free to the surface, and gratefully sucked in the air he needed. But then another fierce wave hit into Dean and Sam felt the fist being forced open, he scrambled to hold on to, his fingers sinking into his brother's thick skin, but it was all in vain.

He was torn from his grasp.

A sharp pain shot up his shoulder as he was jolted to a stop by Dean nabbing his outstretched arm. He looked up through the whipping water to catch a glimpse of Dean's frightened face, but before Dean could get a better hold on him, Sam felt himself being ripped fully away and carried into the whims of the ocean. He gasped, sputtering, as he bobbed down and then up through the waves, completely at its mercy. His makeshift lifejacket helped keep him from staying under too long, but every push and pull of the stormy water took him farther away from his brother.

"Sam! _"_ Dean's voice rumbled from somewhere, mighty and thunderous in its power. " _SAMMY!"_

But Sam couldn't reply, there was no way he could be heard anyway. All he could do was take in another breath before the ocean pulled him back under.


	2. Chapter 2

"There's something on the beach!" A young voice called, slowly pulling Sam out of the fog of unconsciousness.

His whole body ached; that was the first thing he felt as he blearily blinked dry eyes. Then he realized he was laying in wet sand. Water lapped up to his knees. His groggy mind registered he was on a beach, but from the cooler air it was evidently not a tropical one.

Then he snapped to attention – a voice, probably human. He couldn't be seen here in the open. Sam quickly pushed himself up on wobbily arms, the sand sticking to every surface of him.

"It's a man!" The voice came again, closer. Sam's heart thudded, he knew there was no escape – he was too weak. He lifted his heavy head to look at his soon-to-be captor and found –

It was just a boy. A boy his size. Er, not exactly his size – smaller.

Sam stared, then rubbed his eyes with the back of one of his sandy hands before looking back up. The kid had a freckle dotting here and there, short brown hair, and looked no older than ten.

"Muuuum," the boy tentatively called over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off the Winchester. "He's moooving."

 _'Mum?'_ Sam blearily wondered. The kid sounded British.

"Good heavens, Jeffery!" A woman's voice rang out behind him, further away. "What's all the fuss about?" She could be heard shuffling through the sand before moving into sight to stand beside her son, freezing once she caught sight of Sam. "Oh. You weren't joking," she muttered in surprise, taking in Sam's washed up and bedraggled appearance.

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but instead abruptly twisted to his side to cough up the remainder of the salt water in his lungs.

The boy's mom, seeing this, broke through her own shock and jumped to motherly attention, quickly tucking some of her red-brown hair behind her ear as she bent down. "Oh! Oh my – are you alright? Don't answer that. Do you need CPR? Wait, don't answer that either, just focus on breathing." Her eyes flashed back and forth, looking for help on the beach. "I should call an ambulance," she decided hurriedly, checking her pockets for something.

 _Call_ an _ambulance_? Sam quickly held up a hand; he was thoroughly confused but he knew better than to get taken to the hospital, especially since he had no idea where he was or what was going on. "No, no I'm fine – I just, uh, was in a ship wreck I guess…" He pushed himself to his knees, and he jerked to look behind him, scanning the surface of the water. Where was Dean? The ocean was calm, showing no signs of the raging storm it had been, and slick, black rocks jutted up near the beach. Sam held back a shudder at the thought of how lucky he was to have avoided being dashed against those and to have made it safely here.

But where _was_ here? Why were they his size. Or, he hesitated to think… Was he their size, _human_ size? – but that would mean the curse had been broken somehow…

"Wuts that?" The little boy – whom he knew to be Jeffery now - spoke up again with curiosity, jutting a chin at Sam. "It looks kind've funky."

Sam looked down, hands grazing across the foam surface of the bulky life jacket Dean had made for him. If this still fit, then he couldn't have grown, unless it just grew along with his clothes. Maybe this was all just a dream then, a hopeful hallucination from lack of oxygen as he slowly sunk to the bottom of the ocean. His hands gripped the now ragged edges of the jacket; whatever it was, he needed to find Dean, his brother wasn't seen washed up on the beach and Sam wasn't going to acknowledge the nagging dark thought of worry in the back of his mind. "It's, uh, kind of a life jacket," he finally answered.

Jeffery looked it over again, then nodded in approval. "It did its job then, funky lookin' or not."

Sam smiled at that, it really did. Of course anything Dean made was going to work, he was great with his hands. His smile faded, and he sent another sweeping gaze over the beach just in case he somehow could've missed his brother. "You didn't happen to see anyone else washed up, did you?" he couldn't help but ask. "I was on the boat with my older brother before the storm hit."

The mother's eyes filled with worry and sadness at that as she straightened back up, and Sam felt his heart fall a little. "Sorry darling, you're the first person we've ever seen washed up on these shores." She looked behind her in thought, then turned back to where Sam still knelt. "But you know what? If you're really fine and don't need a doctor, how about you come with us back to the house? We'll get you all dried up and fed, then we can look in to see if there's been any reports about a wreck. Does that sound like a good starting place for you?"

Sam's mind was still struggling to wrap around what was happening, did she mean their own house? Or some place in the walls of one? The back of his neck didn't tingle at their gaze like it would if they were human. Would he still have that gift it the curse broke, though?

More and more questions were adding up and the only way he could imagine getting answers was if he followed them. He straightened and stood shakily to his feet to come to his full, impress height. Tall – that was something he forgot he was when around other people to scale. His stomach rumbled as if to agree with her suggestion of food before he could. "Yeah, that sounds great, thanks," he gave her a sincere smile, brushing off the sand on his arms the best he could. Things were weird, but he was a hunter and he dealt with weird all the time. This was just another case, he had to stay focused and piece everything together so he could figure out where Dean was, and how to get back. "I'm Sam, by the way," he offered a hand.

The woman shook it warmly, "Joyce," she answered, "and you probably heard from my hollering this is Jeffery." She patted her son on the shoulder with a smile. "Our house isn't far, just up the beach." She started walking to lead the way. "We got lucky when this place was listed and snatched it up pretty cheap. Ocean view and everything – only needed a little fixin' up and that." She grinned proudly, and as they made their way across the sand, Sam could see the little cottage style house she was referring too.

He blinked a couple times and stood frozen when they reached at the front door – an actual door, not a block of wood to cover the opening. This was a real house, a human house. It didn't tower above him.

"Are you coming, then?" Joyce asked from inside, eyeing him up and down as if suspicious that he did indeed need a doctor.

"Yeah…" Sam said, stepping in with disbelief. His eyes widened once he was inside the house; maybe this really was a hallucination. Everything was his size, from the couches to the lights, and the table he could see in the kitchen with an oven and microwave and… and… _everything_ a normal, human, house would have. When he and Dean had visited the sprite's village in the forest after the whole Lich showdown, getting to explore the houses scaled to his size was amazing, but this – this was surreal.

"Here are some clean clothes from my husband – he's about as tall as you," Joyce broke through his wonder to hand him a pile of folded clothes she had quickly retrieved. "I'll go and fix you up some warm soup," she said as she bustled ahead into the kitchen. "Jeffery will show you the bathroom, you can take a hot shower to get all that sand and salt water off you."

A real hot shower. Sam stared at the clothes in his hand.

"The bathroom's this way," Jeffery said, watching Sam with a curious look. He started walking and gave Sam a 'come on' wave, Sam smiled and followed after the kid. "So," Jeffery said as they rounded the couch, "was it 'coz of pirates?"

Sam raised his eyebrows, "uh, what?"

Jeffery shot him an exasperated look as they turned down a hallway. "The shipwreck, was it 'coz pirates attacked?"

Sam let out a raspy laugh, his throat sore. "No, it was just a storm. Pirates would have been more interesting though," he conceded with a smile.

Jeffery nodded, "Yeah, pirates make everything cooler." He stopped at a door and opened it, turning on the light to show it was the bathroom. "Well, here it is. I'll see you later then."

"Wait," Sam stopped him before the kid could go running down the hallway. He hesitated, leaning against the doorframe. "Am I in… England?" That would explain their accents, but wouldn't explain how he got here from where they were located on the boat, or why he suddenly fit in to this world like he had never been cursed.

Jeffery's eyebrows scrunched together. "Nooo… Never heard of an England." He gave Sam an odd look. "Are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital or anythin'?"

"No, no I'm fine," Sam quickly assured him, pushing off the doorframe to back into the bathroom. "Thanks for the help." He gave the boy a little wave before shutting the door; he could hear Jeffery's footsteps pad away.

Finally alone, Sam let out a huge sigh. Since he woke up here nothing had made sense, and his mind was scrambling to come up with answers while being assaulted with more unbelievable information at every turn. And he still didn't know where Dean was.

His eyes found his reflection in the mirror across from him, and he was startled by how strange he looked in this normal setting. He, Sam Winchester, was standing in front of a sink – not _on_ or _in_ , but in front of. It sounded crazy to find that odd, but after living more than half of his life at four inches, outsizing everyday objects was new to him. He dragged a hand through his rough, salt-water soaked hair with a sigh and the pale, almost-drowned victim staring back at him copied the movements. His fingers found the edge of the Velcro that kept his homemade life jacket together and the foam thing dropped the floor with a soft thump. Sam moved on to his jacket and shirt, deciding it was time to assess the damage before showering.

He hissed through his teeth once his shirt was lifted over his head to join the pile on the floor, finally seeing the cause of his aching stiffness. The water had not been kind to him, and his body was dotted with dark bruises from his legs and arms. The bulky jacket seemed to have saved his ribs from any deep bruising or breaking, and Sam sent another silent thankyou to Dean for making him wear it. His left forearm had the darkest bruise of all, and Sam stared at it in confusion before remembering - that was were Dean had grabbed him, pinched between a thumb and a finger, in a failed attempt to snatch Sam back from the water's grasp. Sam's eyes widened; Dean had been so desperate to not let the ocean claim him, but even then his brother's grip hadn't snapped Sam's arm. He shook his arm out; aside from the painful bruise, it was fine.

Okay. He would take a shower and eat, but then he had to focus on figuring out where the hell he washed up, and where Dean went.

* * *

The shower had been amazing, something he hadn't even realized he missed; using the sink when traveling with Dean had been great but it didn't compare to the real thing. His muscles were less sore and he felt so much better now that he didn't have salt water soaked clothes clinging to him like a second layer of skin. He had toweled off and was now assessing the clothes Joyce had given him, by the looks of it they should fit his taller frame, luckily for him, and she had gathered everything he would need down to the underwear and socks. Sam ran a hand through his still-damp shaggy hair before pulling on the pants. He had some time to think in the shower but he still wasn't able to make sense of things. Maybe it was some sort of strange alternate reality where he hadn't even been shrunk as a kid. Or Dean and him had been separated through a rift in the universe during the storm? If Jeffery really didn't know what England was, that was as close as an explanation Sam could come up with.

He tugged on his t-shirt and socks, then put on the black jacket as well. His bag was missing. Sam paused, suddenly realizing the comforting weight had been missing since he washed up on the beach. It must have been torn from his shoulder during the storm. His arms hung down, feeling weird without the familiar strap to adjust and hold on to; feeling a strange sort of sadness from the loss. He had that bag for most of his life, it's what helped him be able to survive in a world much bigger than him. Without it he felt naked. Sam sighed and straightened his shoulders, well, he was lucky that was the only casualty. He had more important things to worry about, like how Dean was still missing. Sam's gaze found the hand-made life jacket and a ghost of a smile played across his lips. He picked it up by a strap, not wanting to leave it behind, and opened the door to walk back into the living room of the strangely normal human home.

He heard bustling in the kitchen; pots clinking and silverware being sorted, Joyce scolding Jeffery not to eat the bread yet – it was, just, unexplainable how weird he felt being in a 'normal' environment. He started to walk towards the kitchen but the TV – now on and showing the news – caught his attention.

 _"Hello, I'm Rachel Marro with News 24 coming to you live from the fire at the courthouse,"_ a young woman reported, holding her microphone tightly in hand. People rushed frantically to and fro in the background while firemen worked hard to hose down a building that was engulfed in flames; black smoke filled the air and ashes could be seen raining down like snowflakes. _"As of this time it is not certain what caused the building to catch fire, but right now our fire fighters have been bravely rescuing anyone trapped inside."_ She moved to look behind her to show shock blankets and first aid being provided to the victims. _"There has been a report of five casualties, identified as esteemed members of our country's council and the colonel, head of security, who were meeting when the fire broke out."_

The reporter paused as new shouts rang out; she jumped to the side as paramedics with a gurney tried to push pass. _"Oh my god, it looks like one of the councilmembers survived!"_ She waved the camera man to follow her as she rushed up to the ambulance as they readied the gurney to slide inside. The camera was shaky as the man holding it tried to keep up, and Sam found himself clenching onto the back of the couch he stood behind as he watched. _"Councilman Johnson! Councilman Johnson!"_ The reporter called out to the man on the gurney. His clothes were burnt in places and his flesh was bubbled and raw in patches, he moaned in response. _"Are you alright? Are you aware of how the fire started? Is there evidence of foul play?"_ The paramedics tried to gently push her and the cameraman away but she wasn't having it.

 _"His eyes!"_ The councilman moaned, voice raspy from the smoke. His wild, bloodshot eyes found the camera lens and Sam felt a shiver go down his spine at the intensity and lucidness in that gaze. _"His eyes were black!"_

The paramedics finally got the gurney adjusted and slipped him into the ambulance, closing the doors quickly to cut off the reporter from asking any more questions. _"Miss, please move away from the vehicle we need to get him to the hospital right away,"_ one asked sternly, giving her and the cameraman a look before they obliged. The ambulance sped off and the shot panned back to the building, showing the flames were finally starting to die down. The reporter looked a little shaken, but straightened up once she noticed she was back on camera. _"Thank goodness Councilman Johnson survived. We will do an update on his recovery once we know more about it."_ She turned back to the building, _"Now as you can see the fire is starting…"_ she went on, but the volume started to turn down.

"Damn media, probably going to say it was all an accident when it obviously wasn't," a grumbly old voice spoke up from the recliner to the right of the couch. Sam, surprised, looked over to see an older gentleman with short white hair lounged out in the chair like he had been there all day – which couldn't be the case because Sam would've seen him when he first came in.

"Why do you say that?" Sam couldn't help but question. He had to admit, the freaked out way the councilman had shouted at the camera didn't make it seem like it was simply an accident. And black eyes? As a hunter that stood out to Sam the most, it sounded like someone could have been possessed – if the man was actually sanely saying that and wasn't delusional from smoke inhalation.

The older man's gaze shot to Sam, eyes a sharp hazel, and let out a humph. "The head councilmen were altogether for a meeting, and the building just happens to catch fire? I don't believe in coincidences, do you?"

"No, I don't," Sam gravely agreed. He was right, it was too suspicious. Sam felt the usual thrill from a potential case rising inside of him, chasing away the worry and confusion that harbored there. Maybe he could look more into this fire, it would give him something to focus on while he tried to figure out what was really going on, and where he was.

"Sam, the soup is done!" Joyce's voice ringing out from the kitchen cut through his thoughts. He turned to see her walking in with a warm smile. "It's hot and ready for you. I see you've met Charlie, my dad; better come in the kitchen quick before he holds you captive and talks your ear off." She beckoned for him and lead the way to the kitchen. "You can come too then, Dad, I'm sure you're hungry as well," she offered over her shoulder. There was a grunt of agreement and the old man popped into the kitchen after them.

Sam found a seat and sat down, pausing to take in the setting. Jeffery was already here, slurping soup, Joyce passed around bread and butter, and Charlie helped himself to a huge bowl of his own.

"I hope you like chicken noodle," Joyce spoke up, noticing Sam hadn't moved to get any yet. "It's the best soup for feeling better."

Sam looked over with a smile, "I do, thanks." He accepted a bowl of the steamy soup and his stomach growled. A bowl, and _silverware_ his size – it was crazy; he shook his head in dismay.

The sound of the front door opening came through to the kitchen, making everyone pause. "Bloody hell the traffic was bad," a man's voice called, and shuffling could be heard as he made his way into the kitchen. "I didn't think I was gonna be able to make it home!" The owner of the voice burst into the room, he had black shaggy hair and was almost the same height as Sam, with a wiry frame full of the energy the Winchester could tell had passed on to Jeffery. "But I put enough hours into that job and told the heavens – ' _Enough!_ I must get back to my love!'" He moved around the table with flourish and landed a big kiss on the top of Joyce's head. "And the heavens must've listened for here I am, darling."

Joyce rolled her eyes but Sam could see a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "No cursing in the house, Frank," she tutted, jutting a chin at their son who grinned devilishly before sucking up a noodle.

"That's right Jeffery, don't curse," Frank agreed, pulling out a chair at the end of the table and sitting himself down. "Say bloody _heaven_ instead of hell."

Joyce opened her mouth in rebuttal but must have thought it useless so she changed the subject instead. "Why, pray tell, was the traffic so bad then?"

"There was a fire, near the middle of the city. Ambulances were going back and forth and all kinds of crazy stuff."

"They got the fire out," Joyce's dad grunted out, not looking up from buttering his bread. "It's all under control now, we saw it on the news. They took everyone to the hospital."

"Where is the hospital, by the way?" Sam pipped up; if he was going to start a search, it would be best to begin questioning the surviving councilman.

"Not too far from here, 'bout a five-minute walk." Frank said, grabbing a bowl for himself. Then he paused and looked up, finally seeing Sam – though the newcomer was to the right of him the whole time. " _Hello_ , wait a minute." He raised an eyebrow. "Are you a long lost cousin or something? I swear you weren't here when I left this morning."

"Honestly Frank," Joyce said with a smirk, "he could have been here for weeks and you probably wouldn't have noticed."

"Oy! You underestimate my detective skills, woman. Of course I would've noticed him, sharp as a tack, I am." Frank puffed out his chest in mock pride before giving Sam an uncertain side glance and lowering his voice, "Uh, you weren't here for weeks, right?"

Sam shook his head, letting out a little laugh. "Uh, no – to both actually. I'm not a long lost cousin, and I haven't been here for weeks. I actually - my boat crashed during the storm and Joyce and Jeffery were kind enough to take me in while I kind of, get my bearings."

"Huh," Frank said thoughtfully as he filled his own bowl of hot soup. "I don't remember there being a storm, but I'm glad you're alright and they've gotten you all taken care of." He paused to take a big slurp of his soup. "Where are you from, if you don't mind my asking. Your accent is kinda funny."

"Uh, America?" Sam answered hesitantly. He thought about lying but this way he could gauge their reactions and hopefully understand where he was.

Everyone at the table paused, passing sidelong glances at each other in question. "Never heard of it," Frank said shrugging decisively, "But of course I never really paid attention to the geography lessons, I'm practically useless when it comes to anything that isn't about this country."

Sam didn't know whether to feel relieved or not from the answer. If they didn't know what America was, maybe this really was an alternative realm he'd slipped into traveling through the storm.


	3. Chapter 3

On the same island but a different beach miles away, Dean Winchester woke up.

He groaned as conscious came back to him, bringing with it the gift of sore limbs and stinging eyes. Dean rolled his shoulders, hearing gulls cry above, feeling sand give beneath him. Wait – sand? Memories flooded back, the storm, falling into the ocean, going under the waves, loosing Sam.

Sam.

Dean sat up with a jolt, wiping his face with sandy hands, trying to clear his blurry vision. He must've been knocked unconscious when the storm had tossed him around, after it had claimed Sam. His stomach clenched at the thought of Sam left helpless in a vast ocean, had he washed to shore too?

A yell of surprise broke Dean out of his mental assessment, and he jerked his gaze down where he heard the sound.

"Sam?" he questioned, trying to blink away the lingering salt water from his eyes. A small figure took shape, roughly Sam's size, and Dean felt his chest swell with hope.

Until his vision cleared and he realized the small man on the sand in front of him was not his brother.

' _What the-'_ Dean frowned down in confusion at the man stumbling away from him. That wasn't Sam, so why was someone his size out on the beach? He looked around to assess his situation more and found the man was not alone, others were crowded on the beach, about ten of them, all staring up at him in horror. Well, waking up in a strange place only to be looked at like he was Godzilla wasn't a good way to start the day. He looked over the men again, noting with confusion they all were wearing the same type of uniform, like an army. Maybe they lived out here, like the people in the burrow outside of Bobby's.

"Uh, hey," he tried, holding in a sigh as they all visibly flinched back at the sound of his voice. He knew how he looked to them – time spent around Sam and his family taught him how to act as less threatening as possible – but he needed to find Sam and he wasn't going to dally around. If these guys could give him answers about where his brother was, he was going to cut the small talk. Some part of his brain, the hunter part, dinged loudly that something was off, but he would figure that out later. "Alright," he started again, keeping his words steady and calm. "Bear with me, I know I'm, uh, tall and all but I need you guys to help me out."

The men on the beach didn't say anything, just looked at each other nervously.

Dean took that as good a sign as any to continue. At least they weren't screaming in horror or anything. "Listen, my boat crashed and my brother is missing. Have you seen him? He's about," he held up his fingers to estimate Sam's size, "yea big. A little taller than some of you actually." Dean stared down at them, but there was still no reaction. "I know that sounds crazy but it's true, we're brothers, and I need to find him." He was getting a little agitated with nerves; flashes of the storm played in his mind's eye. The last he saw his brother he was being torn away from him. If these men hadn't seen Sam then that could mean… "Come on - shaggy brown hair, brown eyes, always carrying a bag around, probably as waterlogged as me?"

The small men were now collectively backing away from him slowly, as if he was going to lunge at them any second. Okay, maybe he should have tried to hide the edge in his voice better. But if they weren't going to help him, he was going to have to look for himself, he didn't have time to wait around. With a resolved sigh Dean tried to move his legs under him to get up and –

His legs were caught. Dean squinted down in disbelief to find small chains were shackled around his ankles, stretching out to be anchored to big rocks near the water's edge.

He frowned, finally taking in the whole setting around him. Normally as a hunter he would have assessed everything the second he woke up, but he was still a little groggy from being thrown around in the ocean and so worried about Sam he wasn't thinking straight. His head throbbed.

He was on a beach, a somewhat dreary beach slopping away from the water towards a scraggily grass covered hill behind him. The chains around his ankles didn't bother him, he could snap them easily, they had just surprised him; how could people Sam's size end up with chain that small? A quick glance showed the men had been there to tie the rest of the chains around his wrists, but he must have woken up before they could. The next thing he noticed, to his shock, was the boat. The boat that he had witnessed sinking was down the beach some ways, stuck between two rocks in the shallows as if they had simply gotten beached instead of thrown off it in the middle of the ocean.

"Okay, _well_ ," Dean turned his attention to the men who were now a noticeable distance away. "You guys have been great, really. But as much as I'd like to stay for more riveting conversation, I have to go." He leaned forward and gripped the thin metal chains in his hands. Did they really think this would hold him? And why were they chaining him up in the first place? The small people back home usually avoided conflict, they didn't go searching for it by tying up humans.

"I wouldn't, if I were you," a voice called calmly from behind him.

Dean paused and looked over his shoulder at another man in a uniform at the top of the hill; he had probably been watching the whole time. Was he, British? His accent…Dean's eyebrows rose, trying to make sense of what was going on. As the man walked down the hill and grew closer, Dean could make out his features better. The new man had grey hair cropped short, a well-groomed mustache, and a stern, prominent nose. His uniform, though similar in color, looked different than the others and he was carrying something behind his back. He walked with ease toward Dean and carried himself in a way that made the older Winchester automatically distrust him.

"Yeah, and why not?" Dean challenged, not liking the sound of where this was going.

"We all know you can snap that easily so there's no need to show off, they are there as more of a reminder," the man said, coming to a stop a little in front of his men but still out of arms reach of Dean. By the way the others stood to attention Dean could tell he was the leader. "I said I wouldn't if I were you, because we have your brother."

Dean's heart flipped in his chest as many emotions flooded through him; relief that his brother could be alive, that he hadn't drowned in the sea, the need to see for himself and help Sam, and suspicion. Being who he was, suspicion won. Dean narrowed his eyes. "You're playing a dangerous game here," Dean growled, and he saw the men behind the leader take a shivering step back.

The man just shrugged and turned to the uniformed men behind him, "Go back to your stations, you're only embarrassing yourselves." The others hesitated, throwing cautious looks up at Dean, before scattering to disappear over the hill. With them gone, the leader took the object behind his back and threw it into the sand before Dean. "Proof."

Dean glared down at him before looking at what he had thrown. His chest tightened; it was Sam's bag. He never parted with it, he needed it to survive.

"Curious thing, made with strange leather and filled with interesting items," the man was saying as Dean scooped the bag up and cradled it protectively in his hand. "Some of which being a large hook and strange, thick fishing wire type string. But of course, I shouldn't be surprised over that when a giant washed to shore with equally strange baggage of his own."

The alarm bells in his head were blaring at him to put it all together, and as Dean did another sweep of the area he saw an army vehicle pass by just in sight at the edge of the hill. It was as small as a toy. His eyes narrowed. The uniforms, the small chains, the _technology_ – he noticed as well a soldier walked to the hill to look over at him and pulled out a walkie-talkie to murmur something into it; it was all scaled to Sam's size.

Dean was the one out of place.

He straightened his shoulders, trying not to let the General Officer below know how thrown off he was – which was difficult because he knew at their smaller size they could read every small detail of his body language. His calculated thoughts unknowingly mirrored his brothers: _'This didn't make sense… Unless I was somehow thrown into an alternate reality or something going through the storm?_ '

"What makes you so sure I won't just break free and go get him then?" Dean snarled, fingers curling into the sand. Sand, he now noticed, that was practically miniscule.

The man smiled, "Don't worry my men have your brother, Sam, nice and comfortable up at our camp. But the moment – the very second – they hear your thunderous movements break free they will shoot him through the skull before you even get a chance to breach the hill." He said this all calmly, in a manner that suggested he knew he had all the power in this situation despite Dean being big enough to sweep him off his feet into a crushing fist in a second. A flicker of black passed over the General's eyes as his smile grew.

Dean's hands slackened as his mind reeled both from the threat to his brother and what he saw. The man was so small it was difficult to make out, but Dean was a skilled hunter. "You know, where I come from I hunt down demons like you."

The possessed General smiled bigger then, eyes going solid black to confirm Dean saw correctly. "I've heard of realms where hunters exist – exciting." He rubbed his hands together. "But here, there is none of your kind. This place, these nations, have been at peace for so long it was practically begging me to start some fun. To cause some much needed chaos." The demon raised an eyebrow and looked Dean up and down. "And right before I make my move you happen to wash up from some other reality." He chuckled, a smile growing grotesquely across his lips. "Whether you intend to or not, simply your ginormous presence will cause mass panic before even more ensues from my troops destruction. But you don't need to worry about that, you just need to think about your brother, and how he would look with a bullet in his brain if you so much as make a wrong move."

Dean glared down at the demon, disgust rolling in his stomach as he thought of the hand he would be playing in its plan. This could all be a bluff, Dean knew and suspected deeply – the demon could have simply strewn this lie together based on what it overheard Dean saying about Sam just then, but it was a bluff he couldn't afford to act on and the man knew it. He let out a huff of anger, blood boiling.

The demon laughed, knowing he had Dean trapped. "Smart little hunter," he said with a wink before letting the black slide away to reveal normal, pale blue eyes. He turned and made his way back up the hill, whistling, while Dean stared out at the ocean with clenched fists.


	4. Chapter 4

The walk to the hospital was supposed to be a short one, but Sam was so thrown off by everything that it took him a little longer to get there. He hadn't been in public since he was cursed – other than when he went out with Dean, but he had always been safely tucked out of sight in a pocket. Now the open air and the sidewalks and the people and the houses and the _dogs_ and the – well, _everything_ , caught his attention. And made him feel very exposed.

And then when Sam finally did reach his destination, he was suddenly struck with the realization that though he had accompanied Dean on various adventures to question eye witnesses and victims, he never actually did any of that on his own.

Sam hesitated in one of the hallways of the hospital, reading the signs posted around for direction as people milled around him to go about their own jobs and visits. He frowned; he was pretty sure he was in the right section, but getting into the councilman's room might be difficult – he didn't have any of Dean's convenient fake FBI badges or his easy, flirtatious charm to worm his way in.

But a doctor's lab coat might work.

Passing a glance around the busy hallway to make sure no one was watching, Sam found the locker room and, minutes later, came back out wearing a lab coat. It was a little wrinkly and probably needed washed, but it would work. Sam smiled to himself as he smoothed the front, maybe he wasn't too bad at this.

Disguise figured out, Sam was able to find the correct room and pass right into it without a single question being raised his way. The noisy buzz from the hallway faded away as Sam carefully closed the thick door behind him and was instead replaced with the repeated beep of the hospital monitors. The window curtains were drawn and the only light came from the machines and a small lamp on the nightstand beside the bed, but with being accustomed to moving around in dark walls Sam had no trouble making out the figure on the bed.

Sam walked over beside the bed, and hesitated. The man had survived a fire but it had claimed most of his skin – at least what Sam could see. He grimaced as he took in the bubbly, sticky skin covered in bandages. The councilman must have just come back from his immediate surgery.

Then the man's eyes shot open and Sam jerked back in surprise.

"Doctor?" The man rasped out, what was left of his brows furrowed as he tried to focus on Sam's face.

"Uh," Sam cleared his throat and started again, "I'm not the doctor assigned for you, uh, exactly, but I have some questions about the fire. About what started it."

The man coughed a deep, dry cough; the tubes in his nose were probably working overtime to help him breath. "I'm not… Crazy…" was all he could get out as he coughed again.

Sam took a step closer. "I know you're not, I believe you. You said someone had black eyes? Could you tell me who, and what they wanted?" He wasn't sure how long the man could talk so he wanted to get all he could out of him right away.

"Solid black, no iris or whites," the councilman replied, confirming Sam's suspicious as he tried to sit up a little. "An' it was councilman Gansley. But it wasn't- " he coughed again – "but it _wasn't._ "

Sam nodded, "I'm looking into this, believe me I've dealt with cases similar to this before, don't worry. But can you remember what you were meeting about? Before the attack?"

Councilman Johnson let out a breath, obviously relieved someone wasn't dismissing what he said as 'ramblings'. "Defense. Country defense, this city's defense."

The younger Winchester frowned, "What about it?"

"There's none."

Sam's eyebrows rose, his mind spinning as he tried to put it all together. "What do you-"

The door opened, letting in a harsh beam of light and cutting Sam short as a nurse walked in with a clipboard. She paused when she saw them. "Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt, Doctor…" She frowned, trying to read the name on Sam's lab coat. "Haden…" her eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Don't worry about it," Sam tried to say, wincing at his attempt at a British accent to match theirs. "I was just leaving." Giving the councilman an assured nod, he quickly skirted around the nurse before she could realize he didn't actually work there.

He slipped back into the hallway and let himself be swept into the busy throng of people, hoping the nurse wouldn't try to come looking for him to ask questions. He pushed back the constant amazed thoughts about his surroundings and focused on the case. Sam was worried about Dean and where the hell he was, but it was too much to think about – he just needed to work on this right now. He needed to do his duty as a hunter no matter where he was, and with it the easy motions of problem solving will hopefully make figuring out other things easier.

He frowned in thought as he walked – so a demon started the fire? Because it wanted to know about the city's _defenses_? That didn't make much sense, why would a demon care about that? Unless it –

Sam ran right into a woman going the opposite direction.

"I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention!" he said in dismay, reaching out a hand to help steady her. The woman's ball cap had fallen off and she was frantically trying to put it back on while she pushed up the cat-eyed black glasses that had slid down her nose. "Are you okay?"

The woman gave him a look and, with a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, quickly pulled Sam into an empty janitor's closet. "Don't tell anyone!" she hissed at him once the door was shut behind them.

Sam had to press against one of the back shelves in the tight room. The light clicked on and he looked down at the petite woman in confusion. She had abandoned the ball cap and long, dark, curly hair sprung free to fall around her face and past her shoulders. She was looking at him expectantly with eyes a darker shade of brown than her skin, one perfectly shaped black brow raised.

"What? Tell anyone what?" Sam asked in confusion as he looked over her at the door, wondering if he could just shove past her in the small space.

"That you saw me…?" she said, a little unsure now as she looked him up and down. "Do you not know who I am?"

"Uh, no…" Sam said slowly, adjusting his stance so the vacuum beside him wasn't digging into his side. "Am I supposed to? I'm not really…from here."

Her frown disappeared and she nodded then, "Oh - that explains your accent."

They stared at each other for a couple of awkward seconds. Sam cleared his throat. "So, is there a reason you pulled me into a broom closet?"

She took off the glasses and tucked them into the front pocket of her quarter-sleeved shirt. "Well, I'm not really supposed to be here on my own like this, so I kind of panicked when I thought you recognized me. But now I know you have no clue, so never mind!" She smiled at him, and he saw a dimple appear on her right cheek among all the freckles scattered across her face. "I'm Lillian, by the way."

"Sam," he responded. Was she famous here or something? "I came here with my brother but I can't seem to find him. You haven't seen him have you?" Sam asked hopefully, maybe she heard an update of someone else found on shore recently. "He has spikey blonde hair, green eyes, kinda, uh, tall – you can't miss him."

Lillian shrugged, "No I haven't, sorry. But if I see anyone that matches your description I'll let them know you're looking for them."

"Thanks." Sam tried not to let his disappointment show on his face. It was a long shot anyway. He gave her discarded disguise a look over with a smile. "I don't think a ball cap and fake glasses would've worked very well, the most they would've done is draw _more_ attention to you."

"You're right, I should have used a stolen doctor's coat then," she shot back with another smile, then paused, regarding him with a quizzical look. "Wait, what are _you_ doing here? Is it about the fire?" Her eyes narrowed. "I saw you leave the councilman's room."

Sam's eyebrows raised. "Yeah. I just thought I would ask him what he saw."

"Me too!" Lillian exclaimed, reaching out to give Sam's arm a little squeeze. "The whole thing seems a bit fishy, doesn't it?" Her eyes lit up excitement over the prospect of having a mystery to solve. "Did you go in there? What did he say?" she asked eagerly.

Sam was a little taken aback by her easy comradely, but felt the tightness that was in his chest ever since waking up here alone loosen a little. Maybe she would help him figure things out, and while doing so, help him find his brother. So with that hope in mind, Sam told her what he had learned from his talk about the discussion of having no military defense. He left out his suspicious about it being a demon possession, that wasn't something you dropped on a person lightly; maybe he'd tell her if he got more evidence.

Lillian was frowning in thought as Sam finished up, already trying to piece things together. "I know the meeting itself was very last minute, and every top member was told to come. Very interesting…" Her thoughts tapered off as a buzzing sound came from her pocket. With a grimace she pulled out a phone and read the message while Sam tried not to stare at how weird a phone looked when it wasn't bigger than him. "I have to go," Lillian grumbled out, stuffing her phone back into her pocket and breaking Sam out of his musings. "But I like you," she determined, crossing her arms as she gave Sam a solid look over again. "I don't know why, but I trust you. You're weird, and new, and already on the case. We should help each other."

She suddenly reached into her purse and pulled out a pen, grabbing Sam's hand in her own and pulling it towards her to write something on it. "This is the address of my – um, it's a sort of safe house. Private, on the outskirts of the city by a river. Meet me there in a couple of hours – okay? We can talk more."

"Uh, sure," Sam said incredulously, staring down as she finished writing the address in swirling letters. He hadn't been sure what step he was going to take next, and finding a willing alley to help him, albeit one who dragged people into closets and had safe houses, was perfect. She knew the area way better than he did, and could help him hash out what to do next about a demon who could be inhabiting anyone now.

"Perfect." She capped the pen and put it away, giving Sam a wink before putting just the glasses on and turning towards the door. "Wait a minute to head out after me, we don't want people to see us leaving together."

Sam nodded, and she gave him a little wave before opening the door and slipping back out into the hallway. He took off the doctor's coat and hung it on the vacuum's handle as he thought over their conversation. Well, this was definitely not how he saw today going when he headed out on that boat.


	5. Chapter 5

Hours passed and Dean Winchester could only watch the sun moving in the sky and the distant ocean waves as time went on without him. He had tried to see what they were doing on top of the inclined hill – which Dean realized was more of a smaller cliff to the Sam-sized people – but they had set up camp further past where he could see over the top. He also noticed that his duffle bag was washed up next to the boat along with the cooler that had smacked his head under water; he shook his head at how strange it all was. His hands were still free so he had taken off the wet life jacket and tucked Sam's satchel in his front shirt pocket for safe keeping until they were reunited. Once a couple of nervous soldiers drove an army vehicle towards him dragging a water bottle behind it they must have gotten from the cooler he had packed. That had definitely been a sight to see, and succeeded in making him feel even more ginormous in comparison.

But other than that, no one came over for a while. Until now.

Dean was laying down on his side, his back to the cliff, but he tensed with concentration when he heard another car drive up. It stopped way out of reach, then two soldiers got out and walked slowly towards him. He was about to sit up and demand more proof that Sam was there and unharmed, but their hushed conversation reached his ears and made him pause.

"I don't know why he wants us to bring her _here_ ," one grunted out, voice almost too low and quiet for Dean to pick up.

"It doesn't matter- general's order are general's orders," the other answered. Dean heard them both pause and shuffle around. "He might want to give her a scare, y'know? Show 'er what this country is up against an' all that."

" _Alright_ , but, consider this – what if he," there was a nervous pause, "what if the giant _eats_ her or something?"

His back still to them, Dean rolled his eyes. ' _Seriously?'_

"Not our problem," the other replied. Then, "This looks close enough, lets drop her and get out of here before he wakes up."

A grunt of agreement, followed by an almost silent _thump_ onto the soft sand. Then the soldiers were off like a shot, making to their car with as much dignity as they could muster and speeding away.

Dean waited until he was sure they weren't coming back, then slowly sat up and turned around to see who the _she_ was they were talking about.

And froze. A small woman lay just out of reach; her dark, curly hair was spread out in the sand making a halo around her head. She was definitely unconscious, being carried and dropped did nothing to wake her, but from where he sat it was hard to tell if she had any injuries. He frowned down at her prone form before turning back around. "Nope," Dean said to himself. "Not gonna play their game. She can just stay there." He took a swig of his water and stared hard at the distant horizon, but try as he might, he couldn't just _ignore_ the little person who could be potentially injured lying on the ground. Dean glanced back over his shoulder. She looked so fragile lying there.

Dean grumbled to himself before resolutely crawling forward to reach out as far as he could; she was just at his fingertips. Biting his lip in concentration, he gently rolled her until he could tuck her into his palm and raise her up to his eye level to see her better. She was a young woman, with warm brown skin and about a head or so shorter than Sam. He felt a tiny shudder go through her body, possibly from the cooling air, and he furrowed his brow with worry as he closed his fist around her to envelop her with warmth. Maybe he could ask her some questions when she woke up.

* * *

Lillian's head pounded and her whole body ached; she couldn't quite remember what happened after she left the hospital and had been dragged into an alleyway by two men.

Slowly she began to fully come back to consciousness. She stretched her aching arms and legs, frowning at the strange surface she felt herself on as it thrummed beneath her like a heartbeat. Then she opened her eyes to find herself in a cave. She blinked, because perhaps her vision was cloudy from being thonked on the head.

No, she _was_ in a cave - a very warm, soft cave. But then the cave moved and opened to shred her perceived reality and reveal a giant green eye the size of her head staring in at her.

Lillian had always prided herself for keeping a level head in intense situations, the people needed a calm and collected leader after all, but at that horrifying sight she let out a shrill scream and threw herself back only to hit a wall of flesh behind her. She looked up and realized the cave was actually a hand, with fingers as big as her curling above her head, threatening to close on her, and she almost let out another scream when the giant monster before her stopped her with his low voice.

"Hey, it's okay, I won't hurtcha I promise!" The giant man was saying as a way of, what, comforting her?

"You're kidding me. You're absolutely _kidding_ me," she said under her breath. She stood up unsteadily and ran to the edge of the hand to look at the ground below, stomach lurching as she realized she was impossibly high up, and he was _only sitting!_

The giant made a sound of surprise and Lillian felt the hand twitch under her and the other one rush over incredibly fast to block her from the edge, she stepped back quickly at its approach.

"Whoa, be careful, don't want you falling off," he rumbled.

As impossible as it all seemed, it was really happening, there was no way she could ever dream up such a vivid and insane scenario as this. She had to attain some control in the situation - not freak out.

Even though it still dug at him to see an innocent person so afraid of him, Dean had had enough encounters with little people to understand their reactions. He just had to prove to her that there was no way in hell he'd ever hurt her. Any enemy of those bastards who captured Sam was a friend of his, maybe she would even agree to help him figure out a way to rescue his brother. "I'm really not going to hurt you," he tried again in a soft voice. "I wouldn't've even picked you up, but you were knocked out and I wasn't sure if you were okay... Are you feeling alright?"

Lillian paused and tried to regain her composure before she met his powerful gaze. _Everything_ about him was powerful, one of his _fingers_ had more strength than her entire self. She held back a shudder at the thought. But despite the fear, curiosity tinged; he seemed so sincere. "I'm feeling fine, thank you, besides being attacked by strange men and scared to death by a giant monster."

She adjusted her balance in surprise as the hand moved, and for one stomach clenching second Lillian feared she angered him, but he was only moving his hand further from his face to give her space. She blinked in surprise as she saw him fully; she had assumed the face of her giant captor would be monstrous and horrifying to match his size, but he looked human, only a little older than she was, and surprisingly handsome.

She felt his intense gaze swipe over her as though checking to see for himself that she was telling the truth about her lack of injuries. Lillian threw her arms wide and circled so he could see every inch of her. "Nothing, see? Perhaps a small bump on the head, but otherwise I am in perfect condition for whatever it is Giants like you need me for. What would that be? Grind my bones for your bread or something or other?" She kept her voice confident, but though she didn't sense any malicious intent from him, she still internally shook at the thought.

The girl had an English-sounding accent like the soldiers who had found him washed up on their shore, only hers was more proper and less cockney. Her words caught up to him and he grimaced, "No," he quickly assured her. His stomach turned at the very thought. "No, I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Those soldiers dropped you pretty hard on the ground and who knows what else they did to knock you unconscious." His eyes narrowed and voice bled anger as he thought about how they left her lying injured in sand.

Lillian took a step back from his darkened expression, internally relieved that that anger wasn't directed at her. It was a minuet shift of his expression and voice, but any change could be read loud and clear when you were so small in comparison. "They are certainly not fans of mine," she answered, mostly to agree with him, a little to let him know she wasn't one of them.

Dean noticed her discomfort and quickly flashed her a smile. "Would it help to know that I've been taken captive too?" He gestured towards where the strong, thin, chain could be seen encircling his ankles. "I'm not a big fan of them either."

She ignored the dizzying height and glanced down, brow furrowing as she saw the painfully tight chains. He wasn't toying with her, he really was being held captive too. Huh. Having someone of his size on her side would be a great upper hand against whatever the bloody hell was going on. Perhaps they could work together to get out of here. She was always good at sensing right away whether someone was trustworthy, and despite how impossibly large and powerful he was, she had a feeling she was safe with him. She looked back up at him and cocked her head to the side in thought. "Well, it's certainly nice to know we're both on the same side."

Dean smiled again, "Me too. So, uh, while I've got you here, what's your name?"

The young woman straightened her shoulders, trying and failing to calm her wild curls. "Lillian." She paused as if deciding something, then said, "Princess Lillian of Lilliput."

Dean's eyebrows shot up. " _Princess_." He suddenly felt self-conscious of how messy he looked, but then the second part twinged his memory. "Lillian from _Lilliput_ …"

On his hand, the girl crossed her arms, giving him a flat look, "Don't make fun – my parents thought naming me something so close to the country would be lyrical and cute."

"No it's not that," Dean reassured her, although it _was_ a little funny, "Lilliput, for some reason…Kind of sounds…familiar?" He searched through his memories. "I think it was in a story?"

Lillian stared at him in question, then slowly Dean saw her eyes widen with realization. "Oh my _god,_ you have got to be kidding me," she groaned, pinching the skin between her eyebrows. "There's an old story here too – about a friendly giant who washed up on the shores – but it's just a _kid's story_."

Dean repressed a groan of his own as he started to remember a similar story. " _Gulliver's Travels_. Oh, _c'mon_. I can _not_ be reliving that book as the friggin' giant." Dean let out a sigh. So, he was in Lilliput, an apparently-non-fictional island in a world where it was normal to be Sam-sized and freakish to be Dean. Awesome. "Well, as weird as this is, at least some things are starting to make sense."

The princess shook her head in disbelief, "Yes, I guess so. I mean it explains _you_ ," she paused, and Dean could feel a little shiver run down her body. "And it means there's a whole world of people just as big as you - wonderful news." She sighed and, to Dean's surprise, sat down on his hand in with a huff, resting her back against his still-curled fingers. "But I should be grateful that if anyone crossed through realities or whatever, it was you." She tilted her head up to meet his eyes, and Dean raised his hand a little higher so she wouldn't have to keep looking up at him like that while she sat. "Well, I gave you my name and we learned some interesting new things, so what is _your_ name?"

"Dean," he offered. "Dean Winchester."

Dean. She surveyed the massive face in front of her, taking in his green eyes, his sprinkle of freckles, the shape of his nose. Lillian straightened. It couldn't be possible - but their accents did match. She thought back to the floppy brown haired man she met a couple hours ago – he was looking for his brother. How did he describe him? 'Green eyes, blonde hair, tall.'

" _'You can't miss him'_ seems like it was a bit of a bloody understatement," Lillian finally said out loud in exasperation, prompting a questioning look from the huge man before her. "Do you have a brother, by any chance, named Sam?"

The hand was suddenly jerked forward, closer to Dean's face. Her heart raced and she scooted back out of instinct even though she didn't believe she was in any real danger anymore.

"Sam?!" Dean was barely able to keep his voice lowered. "You met Sam? Is he alright?!" His chest ached from feeling so useless sitting here doing nothing while he had no idea how his little brother was.

His intense green eyes bored into her as if her answer was life or death for him, and Lillian knew then– despite the impossibilities – Sam really was Dean's brother. "Yes," she answered him, standing back up and giving Dean a big, confirming smile. "Yes, he's alright. I just met him a couple hours at the hospital – he was questioning a surviving witness. There's something strange going on which is obvious now from the attack on me, and Sam was going to help me figure it all out."

Dean couldn't hide a proud smile at hearing that. Here Sammy was, washed up in a strange place, and he still went out of his way to help other people. A natural hunter. "Was he with you when they attacked? The general said they have him here." He tried not to sound too desperate with those last questions but if they didn't actually have Sam, then that changed everything.

He let out a sigh of relief when she said: "No, he wasn't with me. I left the hospital and was jumped outside far away from him. I suppose this is what I get for ditching my security guards…" Lillian leaned against his fingers in thought, and again Dean couldn't help but feel surprised by how quickly she seemed to trust him. And how lighter she was than even Sam. "He should be at my safe house by now, actually," she continued. "I wanted him to meet me there so we could talk more freely, but I suppose I'm standing him up."

Dean looked down at his chains, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He was so sick of feeling stuck, but now that he knew the possessed general was actually bluffing, nothing was holding him back. "No, you won't be standing him up for long," he promised Lillian, catching her gaze again and giving her a wink. "The only reason I've stayed put is because the soldiers said they have him captive."

Lillian straightened at that "Wait, hold on – _soldiers?_ Soldiers, as in an army of them _here_ , in the countryside outside the city? Oh dear…" She pushed off from the fingers she was leaning on – which was _so_ weird but something she couldn't dwell on – and started pacing in thought. "Okay, obviously this kidnapping wasn't some little thing if there's a whole army involved," she said out loud, if only to let Dean in on what she was thinking to distract him; it was almost amusing how nervous he looked about having her pace on his hand – as if she would be so daft to go walking off the edge.

She took a deep breath, "The councilman told Sam they had a last-minute meeting to discuss the fact that because we've all been at peace for decades, our country and specifically _this city_ would be unprotected against an attack. And then the room spontaneously combusts and they all die except one member. Shortly after, I get kidnapped and taken to a camp of soldiers who have a newly-washed-up-on-shore Giant they probably thought they could use," she shot Dean an apologetic look. "Of course, they thought wrong." Lillian stopped her pacing and turned to give him a questioning look. "So this must mean they're planning on attacking the city soon, doesn't it? Why? I mean, it doesn't make sense – all of our countries have gotten along so well, there's no reason for an incited violence. Especially on a heavily populated city of innocents."

The long years of peace was what most likely drew the demon to this place, and why it was so eager to start a bloody feud. If Lillian wanted to help, she would have to know all the supernatural details. Dean opened his mouth to share what he knew when the distant sound of an approaching armored vehicle was heard. He raised an eyebrow in thought. "I know why– but let's see how much these soldiers actually know, shall we?"


	6. Chapter 6

The army vehicle came to a stop well past the giant's grabbing range from where he was chained; but perhaps he wasn't in a grabby mood, it looked like the huge man still hadn't moved from where he lay with his back to them.

Lillian sat up in the sand, frantic, as the lone soldier stepped out of the car and quietly clicked the door shut behind him. He was young with short, buzzed dark hair, tanned skin, and his uniform told her he was new and lower on the totem pole. His stopped in his tracks, eyes widening, as he saw her waving desperately at him.

"You have to _help me!_ " Lillian cried out in a soft voice. "I think my leg was injured when the other men attacked me to bring me here and I can't move to get away!"

The man frowned with worry, casting a glance at the cliff beside them. "Uh, I'm sorry but my orders were just to check on you and – "

"Look I know you're all holding me hostage but _please_ – can't you keep me somewhere else?!" A little bit of hysteria bled into her tone, and she internally swelled with pride over how convincing she sounded. She had only done a couple theatrical performances in high school but apparently acting was in her genes. Lillian looked over her shoulder at the mountainous form of the giant behind her, letting fear pale her face and shake her voice- that part wasn't too hard to fake when she was seeing him from the perspective on the ground. "Keep me _anywhere_ but here with this monster – I," she lowered her voice into a harsh, worried stage whisper, " _I'm afraid of what it'll do to me when it wakes up!_ "

The soldier threw a nervous glance up at the sleeping form of Dean Winchester, his own face paling. "You're right, this is kind of insane…" He took a slow step towards her, hand automatically going to the butt of his rifle out of instinct as he grew closer to such a huge threat. "I'm sure the general would understand."

Lillian let out a shaky sigh of relief, "Yes! Yes, thank you!" she exclaimed, watching the soldier closely as he grew near. He was still out of range, but the minute he wasn't…

The soldier made it beside her and extended a hand to help her up. "Here, I'll take you back to camp in the car."

Then the earth shook as the giant struck.

In a flash Dean rolled over and snatched the man up into an unforgiving fist, then shot up to sit with his back to the cliff so as not to raise suspicion. With that done, he looked down at the small princess beside him to check on her.

Lillian sucked in a quick breath the moment Dean's attention shot to her; she didn't mean to, he had double checked with her a couple times while they made the plan to make sure she was going to be okay with it – and she was, but _still_. Seeing a man a head taller than her being engulfed by fingers bigger than him and jerked into the air before either one could blink – that was a little bit to take in. But Dean must have noticed her shock because his eyes softened and his shoulders slouched a little as if to try and make himself look less intimidating to her. She gave him a little smile at that, and a thumbs up to let him know she was fine. She trusted him.

Dean gave her a little nod, inwardly grateful she wasn't going to be freaked out by him after this was over, then turned his attention to the struggling soldier in his fist.

"Don't even think about yelling for help," Dean growled before the guy could catch his breath, "because I think you'll regret it if you do." He tightened his fist a little to demonstrate – not _too_ tight, he didn't want to accidently hurt him, just scare him. "Understand?"

The young man stilled his frantic attempts to break free of the fingers curling tightly around him, his chest heaving, and shook his head frantically yes. Dean felt a pang of guilt for using his size against someone like him, and was also acutely aware of Lillian watching, but they needed information and this was the best way to get it. He kept his face hardened as he uncurled his hand and, ignoring the man's shaking, carefully unholstered the army grade assault rifle from his side. Dean looked it over appreciatively before setting it down on the sand beside him, then curled his fist back up – a little looser now.

"Alright G.I. Joe, we have a couple questions I know you'll be happy to give us the answers to," Dean began, lifting his hand higher to keep the small man eye level. "What do you guys think you're doing if there's been peace for so long?"

"We don't really know – or, er, I mean I definitely don't but that's because I'm not in the know as much," he got out in a fast, shaky voice as he stared up at Dean with wide eyes. "Our country still has an army but it's basically boot camp to keep people prepared – I just signed up to put myself through Uni."

"I'd say this is a little more advanced then boot camp," Dean retorted. "So what's the general having you do then? Does your government even know it's happening?"

The poor little guy looked like he was going to pass out. "I, I don't know. I was told we're a chosen few to perform a secret mission for our country – I guess the general said there's evidence the place we're headed has a vast military weaponry they plan to use on us, and we're, we're supposed to strike first."

Dean raised his eyebrows at that and shot a questioning look down at Lilian, who had a matching confused look on her face. "I have no idea what he's talking about, we don't have any weapons like that at all - believe me."

The Winchester nodded; he suspected as much – the demon was just saying whatever it could to get some bloodshed going. "Well your general misinformed you, the place your about to go marching in on is full of innocent civilians," Dean told the soldier in a firm voice. "When are you planning to start this little chin-dig anyway?"

The man wiped his brow with the one hand that wasn't pinned to his side and stuttered out, "In a couple hours - he wants us to set out as soon as possible. That's why I was sent to check on you two."

Dean glanced over his shoulder at the cliff to make sure no one else was coming any time soon. If they were planning on leaving, he and Lillian needed to get out of here now to get to the city before them and find Sam. "Thanks for the information- your cooperation has been a big help. Now we just need to take care of you before we take off." Obviously, the group of soldiers would notice as soon as he got up to leave, but he was hoping to avoid a confrontation that would result with them being surrounded by tanks if they didn't get a head start.

The small man's eyes bulged, "Wait, _wait_ what do you mean 'take care of?!'" His struggles renewed in desperation, trying and failing to thrash against Dean's clenched fist to escape.

Dean regretted his choice of words, if only to keep the man from having a heart attack. " _Relax_ , I just mean knock you out, we can't have you running off to alert anyone before we leave." That didn't seem to help calm him as Dean surveyed the tiny man with a frown. There was no way in hell he was going to try to knock out someone so small. He glanced down at Lillian, giving her a hopeful smile as he lowered his hand with the still struggling man in it next to her. "Princess, would you like to do the honors?"

"Of course," she replied, smiling up at Dean in return.

The soldier gave her a look. "Wait, what are you-"

Before he could finish his sentence she threw an obviously well-practiced punch across his jaw, knocking him out cold.

Dean's eyebrows rose as the man went limp in his hand. He would've felt a little bad for the guy if Dean hadn't recognized his voice as one of the men who dropped her on the sand earlier. "Nice hit," he complimented, impressed and a little relieved she could do it.

Her grin grew bigger and she brushed back some crazy curls, shaking out her hand with a slight wince. "Well I _am_ a princess, self-defense classes are a must."

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. "We can put the guy in the back seat of his car before we leave, he'll wake up with a horrible headache but at least we don't risk him telling the others." He looked down at this ankles, studying the quickest way to break them. "I just need to snap this chain, grab a couple things, and we're outta here."


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Ohmygoodnes, thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews - I'm so glad you're liking it so far! Now, lets finally get these brothers back together!

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The safe house was more of a cottage tucked deep in a sudden outcropping of woods. It was just on the outskirts of the city but the sentient trees blocking out all busy noises of traffic and people made it feel like it was in its own little world. Sam paused in front, looking for any signs of Lillian inside. The house was small and painted a robin's egg blue with elegant white accents and trimming, like something out of a fairy tale. He walked up the wooden steps of the porch and knocked on the front door twice. No answer.

"She must not be here yet," Sam said to himself under his breath. He walked down the porch, steps creaking at his leave, and wandered around to the back to find another open porch with soft little white rockers that called his name. He didn't want to go inside without her, so he made up his mind to sit down, enjoy the view, and wait. He let out a sigh and relaxed.

After Lillian had left the supply closet, Sam had gone to the front desk to ask if anyone recently checked in had almost drowned or washed up on shore. If Sam was Dean's size, then maybe his brother could have been taken to the hospital – but the woman had checked for him and confirmed that no, they hadn't had anyone like that come in.

So after that dead end, Sam had gone to tell Joyce he was going for a walk to clear his mind. The family had been so kind to him he didn't want to worry them with disappearing. The walk over had been a little long; he could have taken a cab but he wanted to look around and didn't have any money anyway. Besides, he was pretty sure a secret safe house was supposed to _remain_ a secret – not have its address given to any cab driver who happened to pick him up.

And now here he was, sitting on a wooden, cushioned rocker, staring out at the green leaved trees and listening to the birds sing overhead. It was still a nice day; a little chill was in the air but the jacket Sam had borrowed was keeping him comfortable. He soaked it all in, every bit of it, because he had missed the outdoors all those years living in the motel. Even with Dean nearby, if Sam ever ventured through the grass he could never fully relax because at his small size anything could be a threat. But now - Sam leaned back, slowly rocking back in forth in time with the steady thrum of the ground - now he could fully enjoy the nature around him without fear.

He let out another deep sigh, closing his eyes for a second. The low thrumming grew heavier now, vibrating the earth and his rocker. Sam froze.

He knew that sound. It was ingrained in him ever since he shrunk.

The thrums were growing closer now, turning into booms, visibly shaking the leaves and everything on the porch.

It was the sound of giant, human footsteps.

But the only way that would be possible here is if…Sam shot up out of his chair and ran to the edge of the porch to stare at the woods, one hand clenched tightly to the railing. The tall, thick trees were shaking now as the crashing booms reverberated across the ground like the beginning shudders of an earthquake. He felt the low, steady vibrations in his bones.

Then the illusion of Sam's curse being broken was shattered as his huge brother came into view. Dean was as giant as ever, giving some of the towering trees a run for their money as his head almost reached over the tops of them, but Sam never saw a more welcoming sight. His brother was watching his step as always, one hand cupping against his chest and the other holding his trusty duffle bag.

Sam's heart swelled with an aching happiness and relief. He left the porch to come into view but still far away from the thunderous steps. "DEAN!" Sam shouted out excitedly, waving his hands over his head and hoping he was heard from where he was at on the ground. He needn't have worried, because he felt his brother's green eyes lock on him instantly at the call.

"Sammy!" Dean's face lit up, flooding with the same emotions Sam was feeling.

The earthshaking steps quickened, and Sam took a little step back as the windows behind him shook in their frames at Dean thudding down onto his knees in front of him. The duffle bag was carefully laid down and then, with that hand freed, Sam was scooped up into the palm of his brother's hand and soaring through the air.

"Sammy," Dean said again as he brought his hand up to his face to look his little brother over critically, almost not believing they were finally reunited. His brother stared up at him with a big smile, wiping the ever-floppy hair out of his eyes. "God Sam, I'm so happy you're okay." His voice hitched a little at the end, and he couldn't keep his eyes from tearing up from relief and happiness. He opened his mouth to say more, to explain how horrible it was watching him be torn away by the waves, how helpless he felt to have let Sam down, but his throat was suddenly too tight. Blinking rapidly, he cupped his little brother close to his chest, over his heart, in their make-shift hug. He wished, as he always found himself wishing, that he could hug Sam properly, hold him tight, to convey just how relieved and happy he was.

Sam wasn't mad at the quick grabbing, but welcomed it. He relaxed in the warm cave that was his brother's hand, stretching his own arms out as wide as he could across Dean's chest in an attempt to hug back. He felt the worry and anxiety he had ever since waking up here melt away as he listened to the steady beat of his older brother's heart, and understood everything Dean was trying to say because he felt the same.

Then the small sound of a throat clearing caught their attention.

"Don't mean to interrupt your moment…" came a familiar voice a little below Sam.

Sam shifted as Dean's fingers curled around him so the hand could pull away before opening back up to let him stand on the palm again. As the other hand was brought up next to him, Sam was surprised to see Lillian. That was why he saw Dean's hand cupped, but it didn't explain how the heck she ended up running into him.

"Hello, Sam." Lillian beamed, giving him a little wave from where she stood on Dean's other hand as if she was as used to doing so as he was. Sam gave her a little confused wave in return.

"Alright, just a sec," Dean said, grinning at his two passengers and the wondering look on Sam's face. "I'll put you both back on solid ground here…" He lowered his hands slowly, feeling the slight shifts of their feet as they adjusted to his movements, and then laid them flat on the ground so the two could step right off. Dean didn't mind holding them, in fact after losing Sam all he wanted to do was keep him close, but he knew Lillian might be more comfortable away from him and he didn't want to be too suffocating to his little brother.

With those two a safe distance from him on the ground, Dean shifted his own weight and moved as slowly and lightly as he could to lay down in the backyard and see them better. "Well Sam, it looks like you had a better welcoming committee waking up here than I did," Dean said with a grin, pointedly taking in Sam's new clothes.

Sam looked down at his jacket and the pants that were a little short. "I was lucky, a nice woman and her son found me and helped me out. That's where I got these," he replied, gesturing at his borrowed clothes. "Although, the whole everything-being-my-size thing has me freaked out."

"Guess what, we're in _Lilliput_ , as in from that Gulliver's Travels story or whatever," Dean told him, knowing Sam would find it just as weird but also help him understand why Dean was the odd one out here this time.

Sam's eyebrows raised and he shot a questioning look at Lillian, who nodded in confirmation. "Wow. I didn't think this place actually existed…That explains why I fit in so well then…" Sam frowned in thought. "I guess the storm really was a buildup of supernatural energy strong enough to rip through universes."

"Most likely," Lillian agreed, "That's how Jonathan Swift traveled here in our stories." She tried to brush back a wayward curl that had fallen down the middle of her forehead.

"Jonathan Swift?" Sam questioned, shooting a look up at Dean. "Isn't that the author of the book?"

"Dude, do I look like I would know that answer?" Dean responded with a twitch of his lips. "I saw the movie once as a kid, that's about it."

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's interesting, that means _he_ was the one to come here and then wrote the book and published it as fiction…" Sam's eyes widened a bit as he recalled more bits of the story. "I'm glad we ended up here – if this place is real that means the land of the giants he also visited is real as well."

Dean made a face at that, "Yeah, no – Lilliput is good, even with the rude welcome."

Lillian laughed. "This is a nice little country, when it's not getting attacked by demon generals from Blefiscu that is."

Sam looked up at Dean, "You told her? Wait – where did _you_ wake up, and how did you two find each other?"

"Lillian told me how you both met, and I filled her in on what's really going on when we made our way here." Dean rested his head on his arms to get comfortable.

And so the three of them filled each other in on what had happened and what they had all learned. The shortened versions.

"The army has to cross a river to get into the city," Lillian was telling the brothers after they started making defensive plans. "If they plan to be stealthy they won't use the bridge, and will have to wade through the shallow part that's not too far from here."

"Perfect," Dean said with a smile, "We can meet them there and do what we planned before they even get into the city. I brought my duffle bag and it has the hunting stuff we need, so I can add a little something to what we already have mapped out and it should go over smoothly."

"Hopefully," Sam added, a wary smile of his own growing. Hunting with his brother like normal, only this time he'd actually get to help out more.

Lillian nodded and started to walk backwards towards the porch. "Sounds like a plan. I have to make a couple phone calls first, to alert my parents and to warn them about," she lifted an eyebrow and waved at Dean's huge form, "y'know, _you,_ so no one freaks out."

"Good luck with that," Sam told her as she left.

Once the sound of the screen door creaking shut was heard, Dean sat up to unzip his duffle. He pulled out a sharpie and looked at it thoughtfully before tucking it into his back pants pocket and turning back to look inside the bag. "Man I'm starving – I haven't eaten anything since this morning. All they gave me was one of my water bottles, but _luckily_ ," he said, digging around inside before triumphantly pulling out a granola bar, "I threw a couple of these in the bag before we left!" He eagerly unwrapped it but paused, looking down at his brother. "Want some?" he offered.

"No thanks," Sam said, "the family that took me in fed me, so I'm good." He grinned as Dean shrugged and took a bite, obviously relishing the small bar even though Sam knew it wasn't his favorite of snacks to eat. He loosely crossed his arms, unconsciously pulling his sleeves up a little.

"They sound like great people," Dean said sincerely, "I hope I get a chance to thank them for being there when I couldn't - y'know, if I don't freak them out first, but what's new?" He gave Sam a wink as he shuffled to sit cross legged. Then he paused, gaze locking in on Sam's forearm with an intense frown. "What's that?" He asked, voice suddenly flat and testing.

Sam looked down in surprise at the dark bruise peeking out from beneath his jacket sleeve. He had meant to not tell Dean about it until he absolutely had to, but of course he should have known his brother would notice the bruise right away even when only a little was showing. "Uh, a bruise – from the storm. It's no big deal, I'm fine," he tried to shrug it off. He wasn't lying - all his bruises were uncomfortable but the hot shower had helped.

But Dean wasn't having it. His gaze narrowed in thought. "From the storm, huh." Then his eyebrows rose as he realized: "Shit, Sam – that's from _me_ wasn't it?" The frown dissipated and Sam could practically see the self-loathing starting back up inside Dean's mind as he looked away. "I'm so sorry, Sammy. I couldn't keep you safe and I actually ended up hurting you more – I'm doing a great job of being an older brother, aren't I…"

"Dean-" Sam broke in quickly before Dean could go on. "It wasn't your fault, none of it – okay? We couldn't control the storm and it was my idea to be out there in the first place. Alright? I don't want you to feel bad; in fact, the life jacket you made me wear saved me from breaking any ribs."

Dean paused, then finally nodded. "Alright…But we're getting you an ice pack after this whole demon thing." He shifted, staring down at his granola bar. "Actually, this experience has been good for me, it lets me kind of get a taste of what you have to deal with back home…"

Sam cocked his head to the side and looked up at his older brother in question. "What do you mean?"

"I'm used the you and the rest of the family your size, and you and everyone have gotten used to _me_ … But y'know, everything is still _my size_ back home – the world is made for me. Hell, even in the sprite village the _trees_ were still normal sized." He shot an accusatory glare at the significantly smaller trees behind him. "But here everything is different, and I uh, don't fit – in more ways than one." He huffed out a quiet laugh at that. "Except it's even worse for you back home because it's the opposite everything is _bigger_ and y'know," Dean shrugged, "you have to fight just to do everyday things. I mean, I got that before, but this has given me a new perspective. I don't know if I say it enough, but Sammy, you're really strong to be able to do what you do daily."

Sam nodded, walking closer to lay a hand on his older brother's knee. "Thanks Dean, that, that means a lot." He craned his neck back to look up at his brother. It really did mean a lot, Sam sometimes couldn't help but feel hopelessly weak when outsized by normal fingers and everyday objects; hearing his older brother say he was strong - his huge, perfectly trained hunter of a brother, made Sam's chest lighten at the words. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm just a weirded out by all of this as you are," he said with a grin to lighten the mood.

Dean chuckled, carefully bringing a knuckle over to playfully nudge his little brother. "Not used to being so tall, huh?"

Sam shot him a bitch-face as he caught his balance, and it just made Dean's smile grow larger. "This is definitely an experience." He looked over his shoulder at the house, then back at Dean with miniscule brows furrowed. "Hey, why does Lillian need to call her parents to tell them about the army? What can _they_ do about it?"

"It's because they're like, the king and queen of this place," Dean answered absently as he focused back on eating the small bar. Man, he was so grateful he tossed a couple of these granola bars in for Sam. Maybe they weren't the _worst_ snack after all.

Sam's eyebrows raised. "Wait, so that means Lillian is…"

"A princess, yes," Lillian answered as she came out of the little house. Sam's eyes widened and she winked at him as she walked over. She couldn't help but think the sudden, flustered way he adjusted his jacket was cute. "But a badass one, don't forget. The only time I'm a damsel in distress is when I'm pretending to be one to draw soldiers near." Lillian grinned up at Dean, who was busy taking big bites out of a granola bar that was bigger than- _nope._ She was _not_ going to make that connection.

"She sure is," Dean piped up in praise, crumpling up the now-empty wrapper and stuffing it back in his bag. "She knocked out a dude in one punch. I'm glad she's on our side, I wouldn't want to go up against her in a fight." He gave her a wink.

The corner of Lillian's mouth tugged upwards at the compliment, even if she knew Dean was exaggerating. She wouldn't last two seconds up against him, he could just swoop her up into a fist before she even tried anything. _Could_ was the key word of course, not would; Dean never made any bad moves that would make her question his word – Lillian trusted him, and that's what she told her parents. "Well obviously without me you both would have no chance up against this demon army." Both the boys nodded gravely at that, and she laughed. "Speaking of which, we should be going if we want to get prepared before they cross the river!"


	8. Chapter 8

It was a small army fit for quick infiltration, about twenty men led by the general. Lillian and Sam were already hunched hiding in position when, true to Lillian's guess, the soldiers approached the place where the river was shallower and flowed slower. Here the woods weren't as thick so staying out of sight was difficult but it was more important to have the extra space. They wouldn't be hiding for long anyway.

On the opposite bank the general paused, assessing the lazy, clear water passing by with keen eyes to find the best place to cross. He looked over his shoulder and gave the men a sharp nod before taking the lead and trudging right into the middle of the stream.

And fell to his knees with a strangled scream that cut through the air.

That was the cue Sam and Lillian were waiting for.

They broke out from the underbrush they had been crouched behind. Lillian felt her eyes widen at the sight of the man convoluting violently in the sizzling water while the soldiers on the bank stared on, not knowing what to do. If she hadn't believed he was a demon before, there would be no doubting it now – his eyes were pitch black and filled with such hatred and fury that made the hairs on back of her neck stand up.

" _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,_ " Sam spoke up in a loud, firm voice. He knew this by heart after nights spent memorizing the exorcism just in case he would actually be able to use it.

"What. Is. This." The possessed General screamed out through clenched teeth.

The ground trembled as Dean appeared from where he had hidden up stream. The soldiers stumbled back in fear at the terrifying sight of his full, standing height. "Holy water," Dean said, a lazy smile growing on his face. "See, being giant means having huge-ass belongings, like a rosary." He winked. "Turns this river into a nice holy bath.

Lillian's hands were clenched at her sides, trying not to look over at the bigger Winchester as he came to a stop standing next to them; her knees almost bucked from the heavy stomps. She trusted him, she really did, but he was still so bloody humongous. That was the point though, Dean was there to help with the intimidation factor and he was nailing it. She needed to concentrate on her part of the plan

" _Omnis satanica potestsas,_ " Sam continued with conviction, taking a step forward. " _omnis incursion infernalis adversarii, omnis – "_

" **IDIOTS** ," the demon roared out, the general's crisp and controlled voice replaced by an inhuman growl as it fought against the chants and burning water to leave its vessel before the exorcism was complete. "DON'T JUST STAND THERE - **_SHOOT_**!"

Before the three could even react, some of the startled soldiers jolted into action with nervous trigger fingers, letting their assault rifles fire at will toward Sam and Lillian.

Dean dropped to his knees and shot forward in an instant, causing some of the soldiers to fall over at the small earthquake he caused as he thrust his hand in front of his brother and the princess to act as a living shield. He let out a hiss of pain as bullets sunk into the flesh on his palm, beads of blood welling, but he didn't drop his hand. Dean's lip curled in anger and he jerked his head to lock sharply on the men who had made the shot, but their weapons were already lowered as they backed quickly away with pale faces. " _Omnis congregation et-"_ Dean quickly started, frantic now to finish.

But the slight pause from the distraction was just enough. With a roar the General's head jerked back, mouth wide, and a mass of black smoke shot out of the body. The empty vessel slumped into the river's cool water like a sack of stones as the demon smoke disappeared.

Silence fell on both sides of the river. One group filled with confusion and fear, the other filled with frustration and disappointment at missing their chance.

With a heavy sigh, Dean leaned forward, (ignoring the way the soldiers tripped over their own feet to get away at his movements), and scooped the now awake, dazed, and unpossessed general out of the river. Before the man could cry out, Dean already deposited him safely on the shore and was giving the soldiers a measured look. "You were just following orders – but forget 'em. There's nothing in this city but innocent people," he said firmly, seeing Lillian give a nod of confirmation out of the corner of his eye. "Leave now, and we'll forget this happened; try something like this again and you won't get off so easy." Dean straightened, and gave them a hard look. "Understand?"

The men gave quick, stuttered yes's and stumbled away from his gaze in a hurry.

" _Dean!_ " The worry in Lillian's voice had Dean's attention in an instant.

"What is it?" he asked before he had fully turned back to them. Sam was on his knees now with Lillian crouched beside him. She looked up with wide eyes and met Dean's gaze; his chest felt tight suddenly with growing uncertainty and worry. "Sam? What's the matter - what happened?" He crouched down, trying to assess his little brother.

"He just fell over, and he's, he's bleeding," Lillian told the bigger Winchester as his huge, piercing green eyes intricately scanned over Sam's every detail. She felt a little surge of shock at that intense gaze. She looked away, bringing a hand up to wipe the hair off Sam's cool forehead as she examined the blood blooming across his stomach like a deadly rose despite the way the younger Winchester was pressing his hands against the wound to stop its growth.

"I'm. Fine." Sam breathed out through gritted teeth, wincing as even breathing jolted electric pain through him. His hands were both slick with blood now. When the soldiers had shot at them earlier, one of the bullets found its target before Dean could block the rest. But it was, it wasn't terrible, so he could…Sam shook his head to clear his fuzzy thoughts but it only made him dizzy. "Just a. gut shot," he huffed out, trying not to worry Lillian and his brother. He could feel both the large gaze and the warm, slender hand on him. He tried to stand, but the ground tilted beneath him. He braced himself for the fall, but instead he was scooped carefully up into his brother's hand.

Dean's breath caught as he carefully – so, _so_ carefully despite the anxious and frantic thoughts scraping at the back of his mind – brought Sam up closer to see how bad it was. His little brother struggled to sit up, but Dean lightly laid a finger on his small shoulder, easing him back down. "Hey Sammy, just relax okay? Don't move too much, I gotta see what the damage is here…" Sam gave him a trusting, understanding nod, and laid back down against Dean's palm, closing his eyes against the pain. That trust hit Dean like a punch; he was supposed to be looking after his brother, but here Sam was, shot and bleeding out.

Carefully Dean brought his other hand over and tried to pick up the hem of Sam's shirt. His brows narrowed in concentration, but his thick fingers couldn't get a hold of it now that blood glued it to Sam's stomach. " _Dammit,_ " Dean hissed in frustration against the rising panic. He was too damn big and useless; he couldn't even get a look at the wound. "Lillian." The name came out as more of a plea.

Lillian was there in an instant the moment Dean lowered his hand back down for her. He was trying to stay calm, but she could see the fear in the crease between his eyebrows and the tightness of his lips. "Got it," she assured him, stepping up to the hand Sam lay prone on; she wasn't sure if he was conscious anymore. Gingerly she pulled up Sam's shirt to reveal the ghastly bullet wound.

"Thanks," Dean breathed out. With his free hand, he quickly brought the hem of his own shirt up to his mouth, and ripped off a strip. It was too big, but it would do. He handed it to Lillian. "Tie this around his waist, and apply pressure on it – I'm afraid to do it myself, I don't know, I don't wanna put too much pressure on him..." he said, thoughts going to the bruise on Sam's arm. His mind was soaring over what to do next as Lillian quickly did as he asked. Maybe he could get her to sew it shut for him – but first they'd have to get the bullet out. Whatever he did, he had to do it fast.

"We should take him to the hospital," Lillian suggested urgently from where she now kneeled on his palm, keeping steady pressure to Sam's wound. "I can call an ambulance!"

A hospital. He had forgotten that was even an option for Sam here. "We don't have time to wait for an ambulance to arrive," Dean thought out loud. He slowly raised his hand, cupping it up to his chest as he rose to a stand. "Can you point out the way?"

Lillian nodded firmly, sharing a determined look with him before she turned back to Sam. "Yes, I can."


	9. Chapter 9

The minute Dean reached the outskirts of the city, screams were heard. He looked around for the source of the threat before remembering _he_ was what everyone was afraid of. And why shouldn't they be? He felt ridiculously huge standing in the street as he towered over shops and reached the top of sky scrapers. But he didn't have time to dwell on that now, he just had to get to the hospital.

"Shouldn't there be more people in a city?" Dean quietly asked Lillian, who was still safely cupped in his hand next to Sam as she pointed out the right direction. Each step he made was calculated and careful, but aside from a few cars speeding away as fast as they could and some people running back indoors, he expected to have to deal with a lot more traffic. He stepped over a wire of traffic lights and continued down the road.

"A civil emergency message was sent out. Everyone's supposed to be on lock-down," came her answer as she peeped over the edge of his fingers. "My parents wanted to make sure everyone was out of the way in case the soldiers did make it into the city. Don't worry though, the hospital is always open regardless. You're just about there, just keep going down this street!"

And then they arrived. It was a tall, new building with (thankfully) large parking lots, and before Dean's hand fully touched the ground Lillian was jumping off to run inside.

Two attendants came out with a stretcher soon after, faces paling as soon as they took Dean in, and they almost looked as if they would bolt back indoors but Lillian barked at them to do their jobs and get Sam inside. Dean had to hide a smile at that. Then his brother was carted where he couldn't follow, and the small moment of amusement was dashed against the rocks of worry again.

Lillian almost followed them, but then she remembered something. "Dean, show me your hand," she said, turning back to face the crestfallen giant of a man. He looked at her in confusion before raising the hand he carried them on. "No, your left one." She jutted a chin at the other hand. "Let me see how many times you got shot when you saved Sam and I."

Dean's eyebrows raised; in all the action the stinging in his palm had faded with adrenaline. "Ah it's nothing," he told her, brushing it off.

She crossed her arms and gave him a bitch-face that made Sam's look weak in comparison. "Don't you give me that," she scolded him, raising an eyebrow in expectation.

Dean felt the corner of his lips twitch up at her sternness. She looked so small even as he sat, but was full of spitfire. He was so glad she wasn't afraid of him; those first few moments when they met had been brutal, to be the one to cause fear to crack through her tough demeanor had made his stomach sick. Huffing out a fake-annoyed sigh, Dean offered his other palm to her.

He barely felt the weight of her hands as she rested them on one of his fingertips to lean over and look at the four red spots where the bullets had sunk into his palm. The bleeding had stopped now, and they mostly just stung. "See? It's fine, they're just like big splinters. I'll live."

Lillian shot Dean another peeved look, "Well they _aren't_ splinters, you're going to at least need them removed. I'll get someone to help you and don't even think about arguing with me about this." Even after spending most of the day with him it was still so surreal to see him, to have her fingers barely make an impact on his skin. "And after they're done you can wait in the back parking lot and I'll keep you updated on Sam." She didn't even give him a chance to reply before she turned away and briskly walked inside to fetch someone brave enough to get the bullets out of Dean's hand.

* * *

The waiting was terrible.

After a doctor (who honestly looked like he was on the verge of fainting) helped removed the bullets, Dean had moved to the back of the hospital where the parking lot was bigger and filled with less cars, just like Lillian told him to do.

It was so strange, to be taller than a whole hospital building sitting down, to have cars look like toys – it all gave him a faint headache. The streets were quiet now, only an occasional person will go past a window to stare at him before ducking back behind the curtain. He saw a couple of police officers pretending they weren't keeping a close eye on him. That was it though, which surprised Dean. Whatever Lillian told her parents they must've listened, because luckily none of the officers were trying to attack him.

Although, that would've at least gotten his mind off worrying about Sam.

And so, Dean sat waiting, absently drawing on his palm with the sharpie he had taken from his duffle bag.

" _Bloody heaven!_ " Came a small voice.

Dean looked over in surprise to find a tiny boy standing next to a bike a little way away from him. The kid looked to be around twelve and was staring up at him with wide awe-filled eyes. "Hey," Dean said with a smile, setting down the sharpie and giving the boy a little wave.

"Hi!" The kid exclaimed as he walked his bike closer, craning his neck back to continue to stare openly. "The news wasn't jokin' – you really _are_ a giant!"

Dean chuckled, "Uh, yeah – I am here at least. What's your name?"

"Jeffery."

"Hi Jeffery, I'm Dean – that's a nice bike you got there," Dean said with a smile, crouching down a bit.

The boy grinned with pride as he looked down at his red bike. "Thanks! I got it for my birthday!"

"That's awesome!" Dean looked around at the empty streets in thought then back down at Jeffery. "Hey, not that I don't like your company – talking to you is great actually – but are you supposed to be out here? Where're your parents?" With the threat of the army gone, and the other 'threat' being himself, Dean wasn't worried about the kid getting hurt. He was more worried about _parents_ being worried, and he didn't want to cause any trouble.

"They're at home," Jeffery told him matter-of-factly, leaning the bike against his side as he talked. "I slipped out of the house because I _neve_ r get to see _anything_ cool – so I didn't wanna miss out on the action. I even made it past all the reporters a couple streets over being held back by the police – they had badges and everything it was _so cool!_ " He took a deep breath. "My parents were all upset about the emergency call everybody got so it was easy to get past them. Mum is mostly worried about our new friend Sam who was _supposed_ to be out on a walk but he never came back and she thinks with the shutdown he might be in danger or lost or somethin'. I'm gonna go look for him."

The boy's name clicked in place at that. "You're the kid who found Sam!" Dean put together with a smile. "Well don't worry – I'm his big brother and I'm with him now."

Jeffery's eyes widened. " _You're_ Sam's _brother_?! That's so awesome! I wish I had a big, big brother, Sam is _so_ lucky!"

"I'll have to tell Sam you said that," Dean said with a chuckle. "Well, you should probably get home so your, uh, mum, doesn't worry anymore. Sam saved the city, but he got shot. He'll be better soon though." Because Sam was gonna be fine. Lillian hadn't been out in a while to update him, so that meant everything was going alright. No news was good news after all – right?

"Sam saved the city?! This is the best day ever!" Jeffery crowed out. "I can't wait to tell everyone in school that I'm friends with two superheroes!"

Dean felt a little bit of the tightness in his chest loosen at the kid's praise and cheerful attitude. He hesitated, then decided to go for it, and reached out a finger to gently tousle Jeffery's hair like he always did Sam's. "Well, ride back home and me and Sam will stop by before we leave," he promised, giving the small boy a wink.

Jeffery just smiled even larger as he brushed his hair back and looked up at Dean again. "Alright!" he said excitedly. "I'll tell Mum!"

With that, Jeffery hopped back onto his bike and took off, leaving the parking lot behind. Dean watched him go, smile slowly fading as worry crept back in.

Then there was movement just below eye-level, and Lillian stepped out onto a balcony.

"What do you think?" she asked, spreading out her arms to display the balcony with a smile. "Being princess means I get to ask for whatever fancy recovery room they have, so I chose one that gives us better access to talking to our gentle giant." She winked up at him, laying her arms across the railing.

Dean smirked, but couldn't help look past her to the room beyond. "Sam's out of surgery?"

"Yes, he's fine, he's actually waking up!" Lillian said with a huge smile, moving back to open the double doors wide so Dean could get a good look into the large room where Sam lay.

Dean bent closer and peered inside and found Sam starting to sit up in bed. "Hiya Sammy," Dean greeted in a hushed voice. "You gave us quite the scare there."

Sam looked over to the open doors, feeling more relaxed now that he could see his older brother. He felt weak and tired, and didn't remember how they even got him to the hospital beside small fragments from his memory of worried, whispered voices and pain. "Hi," he croaked out, both to Dean and Lillian. He tried not to wince as he got comfortable, but he could feel the pull of his skin around the stitches as he moved. "Kind've gave myself a scare, too."

"Well it's all over now, the doctor said you'll make a full recovery," Lillian said, sitting down on the couch across from Sam's bed to keep both brothers in sight. "Everyone is safe, thanks to you two," she gave them each a sincere smile. "So thank you – truly- you boys might not have enjoyed getting here, but you came just in time to help, I couldn't have done it without you."

Lillian saw Sam open his mouth to say something, but just then the door opened and the doctor stepped in, followed by a nurse. They both gave her a small head bow and Dean a reproachful look before setting their sights on the patient.

"Hello Sam," the doctor said, walking up to the bed to set her clipboard down. "I'm glad to see you're awake, that's wonderful. How are you feeling?"

"Uh, a little rough but I guess that's normal after getting shot," he tried to joke, but it fell flat among the serious doctor and nurse; he heard Dean give a small, appreciative chuckle outside though.

The doctor nodded, then turned to look at Lillian, "Excuse me, your highness, but can I talk to you?"

Lillian frowned, but nodded, letting the doctor lead her over to the far corner of the room.

Then the calm atmosphere shattered.

Sam saw the glint of surgical steel a second before she struck. He threw himself across the room in a heartbeat, grunting in pain as he tackled the small doctor before she could plunge it into Lillian's neck. He felt blood soak his hospital gown as the stitches ripped. They smashed to the floor and slid into the couch, Sam trying to wrestle the scalpel out of her hand, but it was like she had supernatural strength.

' _Supernatural_. Oh, shit.' Was all Sam could think before she tossed him off him like he weighed nothing. He crashed against the wall and crumpled to the ground. He looked up to see the doctor come at him again, but Lillian stepped up behind her and smashed a vase into the side of her head– it didn't even phase the demon.

" _Sam, Lillian_ – what's going on?!" Dean asked frantically from outside, hands clenching into fists. He saw Sam tackle the doctor, but with the noise and quick movements he was having a hard time seeing everything.

"She's a demon!" Came Lillian's frantic call, and it was all Dean needed.

He grabbed the balcony with one hand, thumb on the platform and the rest of his fingers below as a brace, poured all his helpless frustration into it and _ripped_ the balcony from the building. Cement chunks fell to the ground and he dropped the rest beside him. Now that the opening was bigger he could see exactly where the doctor was. Quickly but carefully Dean lunged his fingers inside, feeling around for a second before he snatched the doctor out by her lab coat.

She dangled in midair from his fingers, screaming and kicking with demonic fury. Then Dean dropped her into a fist, enclosing the demon completely so its screams were muffled but the vessel wouldn't be injured.

" _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas,"_ Sam yelled out, having picked himself off the floor while Dean handled the demon. He stepped up to the double doors, barely hanging on their hinges now, and continued the exorcism with conviction. " _Omnis incursion infernalis adversarii, omnis congregation et secta diabolica, ergo draco maledicte._ " He felt Lillian step up beside him to offer support he didn't even realize he needed until he gratefully slumped against her. Sam took a deep breath, then finished with a mighty: " _Ut ecclesiam tuam secura, tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, AUDI NOS!_ "

Dean opened his fist as, with one last ferocious scream, the doctor's mouth opened and the demon's black smoky form left her body and smashed into the ground beside them to be banished back to hell where it belonged.

Silence fell as the three let it sink in that the demon was finally gone.

Then the doctor moaned from where she lay cradled in the palm of his hand, blood trickling from a nasty cut on her head where Lillian had struck. Dean quickly brought her up to the doors before she could realize where she was. "She's gonna need looked at," Dean quietly told them as they helped her back into the hospital room.

Lillian ushered the extremely pale nurse over to help her with the small woman. She didn't want Sam to shoulder any more of the weight, he was starting to look pale himself. "Take her to another doctor, won't you? And call for someone new, we need to address Sam – I'm afraid a few stitches may have popped," she told the man, who nodded quickly in understanding before he led the dazed, mumbling doctor out of the room.

"That went great," Sam said as he looked over at Dean, "but what I don't understand is how you kept the demon from fleeing the vessel again when I did the exorcism?"

Dean held up his hand with a grin to showcase markings of a demon trap written in sharpie covering his palm, drawn over even the minuscule bandages he had on. "I was bored, and thought I'd be prepared just in case. Figured it'd be helpful against a pint-sized demon."

"That's awesome!" Sam laughed out, before stopping abruptly with a wince as the movement sent fresh jolts of pain across his stomach.

"Let's get you back into bed then," Lillian said, turning to Sam and noticing the way Dean was hovering close to the building. It was so incredibly surreal to see such a large eye peaking in and his huge form casting a shadow over the room, but it was more of a comfort now really.

"I'm fine," Sam insisted, though it didn't come out with much conviction.

"You Winchesters," Lillian tutted in reprimand as she fluffed the pillows behind him. "This whole 'denying your injuries' thing is going to get you both killed some day." She gently pressed Sam's shoulder so he would lay back, then pulled the sticky hospital gown up. She flushed a bit as she remembered he only had his boxers on underneath, but quickly ignored the embarrassment and focused on his stitches. It wasn't too bad, but three had popped, just as she had suspected.

"Sorry, _mum_ ," came Dean's snarky rebuttal.

Sam smirked, and Lillian rolled her eyes.

* * *

AN: Yay the demon was finally exorcised with a little teamwork!

Chapter 10 is the last one! *sniffle*


	10. Chapter 10

AN: Thank you *so* much nightmares06, goldacharmed, itsmuffintimesir, Maddie, and Heroofthe13thDay for the super kind reviews as I was posting!

* * *

Dean sat on the beach, watching the tiny gulls fly overhead in the light breeze.

After Sam had gone to get his stitches fixed, Dean had left, (with Lillian's permission) to walk back to her safe house and get his duffel. Then he had walked all the way to the beach he woke up on to collect the cooler and check to ensure the army had picked up camp quickly to go back to their own country. The little boat they had come on was banked, but Dean was able to get it back into the water and sail to the other beach to wait for Sam and Lillian.

And it was there where Sam found him an hour later, staring out across the horizon. The sun cast it's evening light low in the sky; after all the events that happened it seemed like longer time should have passed since they got on the boat early that morning. He shook his head with a slight smile, stepped onto the sand, and made his way over to his brother's side. Sam's stomach ached as he carried the hand-made life jacket he had retrieved from the home of the family who took him in. The doctors wanted to keep him longer to watch his stitches, but he insisted he could rest just fine on his own. He'd just have to lay off on climbing for a bit – something that would have been detrimental to his survival before, but now was nothing to worry about since he was with his brother.

"Hey Dean," Sam greeted warmly once he came up beside his brother, setting down the life-jacket with a slight exhale of relief. "All ready?" They hadn't talked about it but Sam assumed that, like after any case they finished, they would move on right away. He was sure Dean would be more comfortable at home anyway, no matter how at-ease he acted.

"Hey," Dean replied, shooting a lazy grin down at him. "Got the boat and everything, oh-!" he patted his breast pocket of his flannel then scooped his fingers to retrieve Sam's bag. "Here ya go, the possessed general found it on shore where I washed up." He lowered his hand down to give it to Sam.

"Wow, I'm can't believe it made it," Sam said with disbelief as he took it off Dean's outstretched fingers. He quickly slung it across his chest and its familiar weight finally made him feel like himself. "I can't believe _all_ of our stuff made it. This whole thing has been crazy and that's saying something in our line of work."

Dean looked away then, turning back to watch the waves lap onto the beach. "Sure has…" A heavy pause fell between them. Then Dean cleared his throat. "Look, Sammy…" This was something he'd been thinking about ever since he first found Sam. Dean knew he had to say it now, so Sam knew he had a choice. "You don't gotta come back with me. This place, sure it's crazy it even exists - but it _does,_ and you can have a life here. One where you don't have to be on guard all the time; hell - where you can get help at a _hospital_." He shifted, still not looking at his smaller brother. "When you got shot, I had no idea what to do - luckily Lillian was around. But if something that bad ever happened back home...?" Dean shook his head, not even wanting to think about it

"Dean," Sam said softly, resting a hand on his brother's arm to quiet his troubled thoughts. "I don't want to stay here." He stared up at Dean, watching his jaw clench with varying emotions, but his brother kept his eyes locked on the distant horizon despite what Sam said. "Lilliput is amazing - I'll give it that – but it's not home. It could never be. My home with _you_ , in the impala."

Dean looked down at Sam now, eyes filled with hope. "Really? Are you sure you wouldn't rather stay here? They don't know anything about the supernatural, they need a good hunter to teach them the ropes. 'Sides, I think that princess has her eye on you."

"Yeah right," Sam laughed, giving Dean's arm a little punch. "And of course I'm sure, I've never been more sure of anything. I'm different here too because of the curse, I'm still a little stronger than normal for my size. Besides," he shot Dean a grin, "I've grown accustomed to having a human taxi and would hate to have to actually _pay_ someone to take me places."

Dean rolled his eyes, grateful for the sincerity as well as the mood lightening. "Always happy to oblige, pint-size."

" _Hello boys!_ " Lillian's voice called out across the beach, and they both turned to find her waving widely with a large smile as she walked towards them.

"Speakin' of…" Dean smirked, poking Sam lightly on the side that wasn't hurt, "she probably came to give you a goodbye kiss."

"Stop it," Sam huffed, pushing his finger away with annoyed look. "She'll hear you."

"I just stopped in to talk to Joyce – what a lovely woman," Lillian said once she was beside them, oblivious to their teasing. "She's going crazy in the kitchen though for some reason but I had to meet her after she helped Sam out the way she did."

She paused to take a breath and push back those curls that always seemed to stubbornly fall across her forehead. "The civilians are getting more confident now that the threat has passed, and it's taken a lot of our officers to keep them away from the beach. We aren't afraid you'll hurt anyone, Dean, but I don't want them swarming you to take pictures or something," she rolled her eyes. "Apparently, someone recorded a video of you being adorable while talking and playing with that little boy outside the hospital and it went viral immediately – you're a bona fide celebrity here now, everyone loves you."

Dean grinned, a little taken aback. "Really? A whole city loves me?"

"Probably the whole _country_."

"Oh great, you shouldn't have told him that," Sam groaned in mock dismay; secretly though, he was just as pleased. "Now it will most definitely go to his head – he has a big enough one as it is."

"Hey, it's only big compared to yours," Dean retorted, reaching down to playfully nudge Sam with a knuckle. "I'll have you know my head is perfectly normal for my size."

Lillian laughed as Sam stumbled up against her. He sheepishly muttered an apology while backing away to shoot a glare up at the bigger Winchester, whose hand retreated quickly as he looked innocently back down on them.

"Well, anyhow," Lillian said as she got her own footing, "my parents would be here if they could, but they still have things to clear with Biefuscu and important meetings to set up and all that, so I get to keep doing the liaising between the crown and our country's very own heroes."

The brothers smiled a little shyly at that, and Lillian felt a swell of pride and happiness from having met these two young men. "I know you both didn't particularly _intend_ to come here, but I must express on behalf of the entire country our deepest gratitude for your help. Without you both and your extensive knowledge on the supernatural, we may have very well been in a war right now. Thank you." She gave them each a large smile.

"Wait, nobody's leavin' yet!" Another female voice rang out. All three heads turned to find Joyce coming towards them on the beach, followed closely by Jeffery. They were both holding something in their arms and moving carefully across the sand.

" _Well_ ," Joyce huffed out as soon as they were close enough, clearly out of breath. She thumped a plastic container onto the sand, still not looking up yet. "That was quite the trek carrying this. I should've thought that out better…" Jeffery stopped next to her, carrying two thermoses and buzzing with excitement at seeing them all again.

Joyce looked up, blushing slightly as she noticed Princess Lillian again, a warm smile Sam's way, and then finally a nod Dean's way; her composure was friendly even as the color drained from her face a bit. "It's nice to formally meet you, Dean. Sam has been really worried about you. Jeffery told me you both would be stopping by so I, uh…Well I made more chicken noodle soup for the trip because my mum's recipe always made me feel better and…" She trailed off, noticing her rambling. "Anyway, now that I think about it, it was silly. There's obviously not enough for you and I don't even know if you _like_ chicken noodle soup and…"

"I _love_ chicken noodle soup," Dean interrupted gently with a friendly grin. "I haven't had anything home-made for a while, so any amount I can get is always a score for me." He winked, and Joyce beamed. "I'm glad you came out, I wanted to thank you in person for helping out my little brother."

"Yes, thank you for all you've done," Sam agreed sincerely. "I don't even know what I would've done if you guys didn't take me in."

"Oh…It was nothing, I'm just happy to help." Joyce was blushing even more now, and Jeffery was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet from staying silent for so long.

"Yeah! Like I told Dean," Jeffery finally burst out, looking at each one of the excitedly, "this was the _best day ever_!"

Everyone shared a chuckle at his exuberance, then a voice called out from the family's house: "Oy, Joyce- the news just said the giant is on _our_ beach!"

Joyce rolled her eyes in exasperation while Sam tried hold in a laugh. "I _know_ , Frank dear, he's Sam's brother and I'm with them right now!" she called back.

The sound of the window opening further could be heard, and then Frank's head was seen sticking out. "Well, what do you know!" he exclaimed, giving the group a wave.

Joyce gave them all a 'what can you do' shrug before glancing between the princess, Sam, and Dean, noticing they might want a little bit of privacy to finish saying their goodbyes. "We better get back to him, that poor man is useless without me. The world could be ending and he wouldn't notice– would he Jeffery?" She looked down at her son, who shook his head enthusiastically in agreement.

"GoodBYE!" Jeffery told them all, running forward to hand Sam a thermos of soup and a bag of his washed and dried clothes.

With a round of final goodbyes, Sam watched the two walk back to their house. He set the thermos and sack on the ground and adjusted his satchel as Lillian turned back to them.

She let her gaze drift to the bags ready to go and the boat waiting for them on the beach, and she felt a twinge of sadness. "You are both more than welcome to stay as long as you like, as the crown's most honored guests, but…" She looked down, "I imagine you both would be wanting to get home."

Dean felt a twinge of sadness of his own at the thought of leaving behind a friend. "Well, thank _you_ ," Dean told her, seeing her look up at his words. "We wouldn't have even been able to do anything without your help, seriously. I'd still be chained up thinking Sam was being held captive."

"And I'd be wandering around your city trying to find Dean and figure out where the heck I was," Sam joined in with a grin. "This has been great, and I really wish we could stay longer. But since we don't even know how to get back, or if there's a time difference back home, it's better if we do leave right away."

Lillian nodded. "Yes, I understand. And you both should know I intend to set up a royal group of our own hunters to study lore and train to be prepared against anything that comes our way." She looked at them both again, then in a decidedly un-princess-like-behavior, shot forward to throw her arms around Sam, making him stumble back in surprise. He was taller than her so her head rested against his chest as she wrapped him tightly into a hug, mindful of the stitches. "Goodbye," she murmured with a sigh.

All Sam could see were dark, bouncy curls, and he smiled and hugged back. "Bye, Lillian. I'm glad I ran into you at the hospital." They were lucky to have met her, and to call her a friend.

Lillian gave him one last squeeze and let go to turn to Dean, whose eyebrows shot up in surprise as she raised her arms out. "Your turn – don't you go thinking you could leave without one!"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Dean replied with a chuckle before hesitantly lowering a hand for her to step on to. She hoped on without a second thought and he held his breath as he raised her up to his chest. He paused; he was only used to hugging Sam and was unsure if he would be overwhelming her, she had been fine the other couple times being so close to him but –

His worries evaporated as Lillian jumped up against his chest, spreading her arms as wide as she could. "You're like the little sister I never wanted," he joked with a smile. He brought his other hand over to cup around her tiny form, and closed his eyes. "See ya, Princess."

She smiled, hearing the rumbling vibrations deep in his chest and the steady beat of his heart. The warmth of being cupped in his hand was comforting, and something she would never forget. Dean Winchester sure looked intimidating, but she was glad she had looked past that to find his gentler, caring nature. He was tough on monsters but soft to anyone he cared for, and she was proud to be one of those people. "Goodbye, Dean," she whispered, knowing it reached his ears by the way he held her closer.

Then she was back on solid ground and the absence of his warmth made her suddenly cold. She pulled her jacket closer and shifted her feet in the sand. "Well, if another freak storm happens to hit, you boys are both very welcome here."

"Good to know," Sam said with a grin. "And, for the record: this country is lucky to have you as its future leader, you're going to be a great queen." He held her gaze, wanting her to sense the sincerity in his words. Then after she gave him a watery nod, he bent down to pick up the thermos of soup stuffed his washed clothes in his bag. His stomach ached from the movements but it reminded him to take it easy as he walked over to Dean.

"Wait," Dean stopped his little brother before he could even think about attempting to climb up like he always did. "I'll double as an elevator service from now on until you heal like when your arm was broken, alright?"

Sam nodded gratefully and stepped onto the awaiting palm, bag over his shoulder bulging with his clothes and thermos of hot soup in hand. His life jacket was scooped up by Dean and carefully packed inside the duffle bag that was then slung over his other shoulder; all of these movements Sam noticed were especially slow and calculated so as not to unbalance him on the hand.

Once everything was ready Dean slowly brought Sam up to his chest, figuring with his little brother's hands full he wouldn't want to sit on his shoulder until they were on the boat. Then, shooting another wink and smile Lillian's way, stood up and scooped his own small container of soup up in his other hand. "Ready Sam?" he asked, looking down at the brother he had cupped safely in hand.

Sam let his gaze wander across the distant city before him, soaking it in. Being here was a strange, nice little gift of normalcy, showing him what things might have been like if he had never been hit with the curse. But then he felt the familiar, steady pulse of Dean's heartbeat beneath his boots and the satisfied feeling of a job well down and he knew he would never trade the life he had now for anything. "Yeah, let's go home."

* * *

It was later that day when the sun was finishing its slow dip beneath the ocean's horizon that the brothers docked. A feeling of dazed sleepiness hung over them and the memory of the trip back itself was hazy, but the details of the events in Lilliput were clear in their minds and their bellies were warm from homemade soup. They had not intended to voyage to a different world when setting out to sail that morning, but in doing so they had ended up saving a whole city of people. With this new adventure tucked under their belts and friendships in their hearts, Sam and Dean found themselves back in the impala, driving along the dusky road toward their next case.

* * *

AN: :') And that's the end of the brothers' adventures in Lilliput! I had so much fun writing it, I'm sad that it had to end too! (But I figured I'd better wrap it up so I could edit it in time for the contest deadline lol) Thanks again for reading/reviewing!


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